


adagio

by gintokitas



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Classical Music, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom!sylvain, Cellist!Sylvain, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Violinist!Felix, because sylvix u know, soft sylvix city, tags and rating likely to change, top!Felix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:22:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22647103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gintokitas/pseuds/gintokitas
Summary: Sylvain Gautier comes from a long line of esteemed cellists, and of course, he is expected to carry on the burden-riddled legacy regardless of how he truly feels. Somewhere along the way, Felix Fraldarius enters his life and turns his world upside down with the most beautiful and enchanting melodies Sylvain has ever heard.Maybe, just maybe, Felix could be the one to help him learn how to love music again.♡in which sylvain and felix discover a newfound love for music through each other
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 27
Kudos: 149





	1. allegretto

**Author's Note:**

> ḩ̵͎̫̖͙̗̯͙̾̓̅̉ë̵̜̯̻͎̮́͒̊́͜ļ̵̧̼͙̮̤̖̝̼͇̎ļ̷̭͋ǒ̴̗͆̐́̇͗͜
> 
> at long last i'm finally posting a sylvix fic aaaa! [pops confetti]  
> this came about because i got in my orchestra feelings one night (bc i desperately miss playing viola) and started assigning instruments to the blue lions members fdnlksf and two of my friends Fueled The Fire Within Me until i started actually writing something for it 
> 
> anyway please enjoy!!

Sylvain envied those who had a true passion for music. Though he was surrounded by it for a majority of his life, he was never able to truly connect with it. For many generations his family had produced renowned cellists, famous for their compositions and emotional solo performances. Naturally, he was to follow in his family's footsteps and carry on the legacy. The issue lied in that his family had a passion for playing cello while Sylvain did not. Around him, people described their experiences with playing string instruments as emotion-filled, often swaying side to side in time with the beat of the music. Sometimes they even cried mid-performance. When Sylvain played, he felt nothing - neither joy nor distaste. Simply nothing. 

Funnily enough, he was essentially the picture perfect musician. Sight reading music was second nature to him in most instances, and his vibrato was a skill to be envied by many. The few solo performances he had done in the past brought tears to people's eyes - or so that's what they claimed. Part of his issue was that everything felt so fake. The incessant compliments people shoved down his throat felt so inauthentic; as though they were attempting to use him as a step ladder to force their way into the good graces of his brother and father. 

With his career path chosen for him early on in his youth, Sylvain never had reason to consider alternatives. There was nothing he could think of that he was necessarily passionate about, and even if there was it wouldn't matter. After all, it was all about carrying on the family legacy. 

There was one time Sylvain recalled actually feeling excited to play cello, and it was back when he was first learning the proper mechanics of it. He'd marveled at his brother's and father's playing and itched to learn how to properly hold a bow and join them. Learning how to play came naturally to him for the most part, and his father doted on him, claiming to family friends with confidence that Sylvain would be the next biggest cellist, that Sylvain would reach far beyond what the world had been exposed to thus far. At the time, those pressure-filled words meant nothing to him. He simply grinned and agreed with his father, boasting incredulously about how he would be the best cellist in the world. 

It wasn't until his early adolescence that he realized his father was not joking when he continued making those outrageous claims. By then, he had begun nervously laughing off any praise he received from others and tried instead to focus on improving his playing. 

To put it lightly, Sylvain's father spared no empathy when it came to private lessons. Sylvain would spend hours upon hours memorizing scales, sight reading new music, revising old music, among an abundance of other things. If his playing was not up to standard, he would be assigned additional hours of practice. 

By age 17, Sylvain was the top cellist in his school. Maybe even in his town for his age bracket. His playing resonated with the general populace, and he even began composing original music. Whispers of an up and coming cellist weaved their way through the town, instilling excitement in the hearts of those in the music community. 

Sylvain could play damn well. He could ensnare the hearts of music enthusiasts with minimal effort. 

But at what cost? 

"At what cost," Sylvain muttered to himself as he packed up his cello to set out for the day. He smoothed the calloused fingers of his left hand over the ostentatious case, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at it. The case was a deep earthy brown with intricate detailing along the perimeter. The sleek wooden finish gave it an expensive feel. It was gifted to him for his 23rd birthday a few months prior by a name he couldn’t remember, so while he didn't know the actual cost, he wasn't stupid. With the way others kissed his ass to get on his father’s good side, he could make a solid estimation.

The symphony representing his town was holding a free concert to hopefully capture the attention of young, promising musicians.  _ How annoying _ , Sylvain thought. He couldn't deny that he was curious about the first rehearsal, though. Apparently the dwindling orchestra took on a couple new violinists, a violist, and quite a few others to fill in the rapidly deteriorating brass section. As the years passed, the orchestra struggled to find new musicians. It was a wonder they were able to recruit so many this time around.

Their rehearsal spot was a local theater located about a ten minute drive from Sylvain’s apartment. One thing he would be eternally grateful for was the money he received from his performances that allowed him to move out of his parents’ home. That house was grand and elaborate, of course, but it was also insufferably stuffy. But maybe that was just him. 

* * *

Sylvain was one of the first to arrive at the small theater. The warm, humid August air swaddled him almost uncomfortably as he stepped into the venue. Several others arrived before him and had their respective instruments out, making sure to get the worst of the tuning out of the way before their collective tuning as an ensemble. 

Cello case in hand, Sylvain made his way up the short set of stairs leading up to the stage and headed toward his seat. It was such a routine by that point that he basically functioned on autopilot. He genuinely couldn’t remember the last time he  _ wasn’t _ first chair cello. 

As he set his case down next to his chair, a new face sitting in the first chair first violin position caught his attention. The person looked to be a guy about his age, raven hair tied back into a small bun with a few free strands still framing his face. His clothes looked a little too dressy for a rehearsal, but Sylvain just assumed it must have been the guy trying to make a good first impression. He chuckled at the thought. 

What surprised him the most was the fact that this guy was first chair. For as long as he could remember a good friend of his, Annette Dominic, had retained that title. She was an exceptional violinist, so for this person to take her place...spoke volumes about what his playing must be like. 

Curiosity stirred within him, and before he could control himself, he was already standing before the newcomer. Soft brown irises peered up into his own as an eyebrow cocked. 

“Can I help you?” the violinist asked, voice deep and resounding. His tone was neither friendly nor hostile. More annoyed than anything. 

How interesting. 

Sylvain grinned and placed a hand out in front of the other. "You must be new, right? I'd remember such a handsome face. I'm Sylvain Gautier, first chair cellist." 

The man glanced down at Sylvain's outstretched hand for a few seconds before shaking it hesitantly. "Felix Fraldarius. First chair, first violin." And no reaction to the handsome comment.

"Felix," Sylvain repeated, testing the way it rolled off his tongue. "Did you just recently move into town? If you're good enough to shove Annette down off her first chair high horse, I've gotta say I'm damn impressed." 

"Annette?" Felix questioned before shaking his head, huffing out a sigh. "There's no time for this. I need to practice." 

Felix's words were clearly a conversation closer, but Sylvain persisted. "We have plenty of time to practice," he commented with a grin. "Isn't that why we're here?" 

Instead of humoring Sulvain any further, Felix simply ignored him in favor of picking up his violin. With his sheet music in place, Felix took a small breath in and hovered his bow above his strings. Graciously, he pulled the bow across the strings, producing some of the most enchanting sounds Sylvain had ever heard. 

Sylvain was struck silent, rooted to the spot as he watched. It felt like the breath had been knocked out of him, but he refused to look away. The gentle string of notes carried him away from the intimate theater stage to an unknown world so rich and full of life. He could  _ feel _ the music wrap around his very being, squeezing him with some sort of gentle affirmation. 

Eyes closed, Felix continued, the positions of his left hand working in perfect harmony with his bow movements. As the notes slowly faded into the air, Sylvain was finally released from that sweet embrace, suddenly grounded as he was brought back to Earth. 

Whatever Felix was playing must have been original because Sylvain absolutely would have remembered hearing such a melody before. All of the songs chosen for them to perform were ones he had performed in a group at one point or another. 

Sylvain frantically looked around him, wondering if anyone else had experienced what he just did, but it had appeared not. The others who were present were lost in their own worlds of practice and hadn't paid attention to the breathtaking melody he just heard. What a shame. 

"Wow," Sylvain said under his breath. "You're good, Felix." 

A soft pink dusted across Felix's cheeks before he cleared his throat rather loud, sighing harshly. "You're still here?" 

Not wanting to push Felix's buttons any further (for now), Sylvain held up both hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'm leaving! I swear." 

Before he could step away, he noticed a pencil resting along the ledge of the music stand. Grinning, Sylvain quickly grabbed the pencil and flipped over Felix's sheet music, scribbling his phone number across the back.

Felix glared at him, reaching forward to snatch the paper out of Sylvain's hands. Chuckling to himself, Sylvain strode back over to his seat directly across from Felix. "We should hang out sometime," he called as he sat down and pulled out his cello. An annoyed huff graced his ears, and Sylvain laughed as he tightened his bow. Felix was so easy to rile up, and that wasn't even his intention with his invitation. A good thing to note.

Eventually others began filing in as well, filling in the empty seats of the orchestra half-circle. This first practice was only for string instruments. It mostly served as a way for the conductor to formally introduce himself to the newcomers and get the worst of the practices out of the way. By the first rehearsal, people generally hadn't practiced much, instead hoping to rely on others around them. Joke's on them because almost everyone felt that way. Such logic only resulted in a mediocre practice and a pissed off conductor. Not a good combination. 

Sylvain stopped mid-tune when he saw Annette stroll in and take her seat beside Felix as second chair. When her eyes met Sylvain's, he glanced quickly at Felix then back at her with a wriggle of his brows. Annette rolled her eyes and unpacked her violin before making introductions with Felix. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but it appeared they were having a decent conversation. Both seemed relaxed and calm, no vicious rivalry shrouding their expressions as with many competitive violinists. 

Annette performed beautifully and had once remained unchallenged in her spot much like Sylvain. Though she took great pride in maintaining first chair, he knew she truly longed for someone to come along and change things up for her. Overall she was an extremely kind person and was one of the few people he could consider a genuine friend. Others included Ashe Duran and Ingrid Galatea, both violists, and pianist Mercedes von Martritz who showed whenever they needed a piano accompaniment. Their personalities differed by more than a small margin, and they may not have become acquainted if the circumstances were different, but this is where they ended up. They had each been a part of the same orchestra for years and had become familiar purely due to exposure to one another. 

Sylvain was thankful regardless of how it happened. He used to keep to himself more often than not until Annette began striking up conversations with him and the others. She invited them all out for lunch almost on a weekly basis, and one day they finally decided to just indulge her. That first group lunch was painfully awkward, with Annette and Mercedes, whose friendship preceded their orchestra experience, trying desperately to keep the conversation alive. Ashe stayed silent for most of it and poked at his food while Sylvain stared off in silence wondering why he had ever agreed to join. After a few moments of defeated silence, Sylvain had decided to hop in and start a new conversation. This time, he got Ashe engaged by asking about his favorite pieces to play. Sylvain found that they both had Adagio for Strings by Samuel Barber as a common favorite, and he used that to fuel their conversation. He remembered seeing Annette and Mercedes sigh in relief out of the corner of his eye. To this day, that still made him chuckle.

The sound of a throat clearing pulled Sylvain from his thoughts, and he realized the conductor was announcing his arrival as he stepped onto the stage. By that time,  _ almost _ every chair had been filled. Sylvain pitied the ones who chose not to show; they must not have known the absolute verbal assailance they’d be dealing with once the conductor reached his email after practice. The man was extremely strict when it came to attendance. 

Bow in hand and music in place, Sylvain was prepared to get practice over with. While the conductor ran through his normal introductory spiel, Sylvain glanced across at Felix who was half-hidden by the music stand. He seemed tense, lips pressed tightly together with his attention fixed on the conductor. Sylvain wondered if this was the first orchestra he’d ever joined outside of a school setting. Or at all. He just wanted to learn more about Felix. 

At one point, Felix locked eyes with him, eyebrow raising in silent question. Oops, Sylvain had been staring. In his defense, Felix was seated directly across from him, so it was hard for him to look anywhere else. Shoddy excuse, but it was the best thing he could come up with to justify himself. 

Sylvain broke eye contact and glanced down at the sheet music in front of him. The first piece they would be practicing was Debussy’s Printemps. Kind of boring in his opinion, but he felt that way with most pieces. 

As expected, rehearsal dragged by. His movements were almost mechanical as they ran through the three pieces they aimed to practice for that day. The girl sitting beside him seemed obviously shaken with nerves if it was any indication by how she dropped her bow multiple times throughout rehearsal, earning her a side eye from the conductor. One time her entire cello began sliding forward, and she almost dropped it anyway trying to save it from crashing to the floor.

Sylvain hadn’t even realized anybody new was sitting next to him and definitely hadn’t taken the time to introduce himself to her like Annette did with Felix. In his defense, he ran through most practices on autopilot. That included making conversation and simple introductions. 

“Relax,” Sylvain whispered to her mid-practice as he handed her the roisin that she accidentally pushed off her music stand. Nervous eyes met his own, and he could practically hear her gulp as she nodded. She reminded him of himself when he was younger and first playing in front of large audiences with people he’d never met before. It was a difficult adjustment to some, but she’d have to learn to adapt. Otherwise there was no way she would last. After she took a breath to steady herself, she seemed much more calm. Sylvain was thankful the cellos had enough consecutive rests in the song for her to collect herself. 

By the time rehearsal ended, Sylvain turned to introduce himself but found she had already packed her cello and run off. He stared in her wake, mouth still partially open from when he was going to welcome her and get her name since he had so rudely ignored her (on accident) before rehearsal started. 

Shrugging, Sylvain settled for packing up his own cello, ready to get the hell out of that stuffy venue. A buzz coming from his back pocket startled him, but he pulled it out and checked to see what the notification was. 

**Unsaved number**

_ The hell did you say to that poor girl to scare her off like that? _

A couple seconds passed before Sylvain whipped his head up and looked over at Felix. 

“Well?” Felix mouthed expectantly as he pressed down the clamps on his violin case. 

Sylvain quickly saved his number and replied. 

**Me**

_ I didn’t do anything! I told her to relax during one of the songs...maybe my incredible playing intimidated her _

Sylvain looked up again just in time to see Felix roll his eyes at the message and stuff his phone back in his pocket. He took a couple seconds to think before he sent another message.

**Me**

_ Wanna practice together sometime? It's been a while since I've been able to practice w anyone outside of rehearsal _ 😔 __

As Sylvain loosened his bow and packed it away, he glanced up at Felix, curious as to what his response would be. Felix contemplated his offer, drumming his thumbs along the bottom edge of his phone before he replied.

**Felix**

_ Uh...I guess. _

Sylvain took that as a success and grinned. 

**Me**

_ Tomorrow afternoon? There's a nearby park that's usually pretty empty _

As Felix was already making his way out the door, Sylvain received a final text. 

**Felix**

_ Sure. Text me the address and time. _

* * *

The giddy excitement that bubbled within Sylvain surprised even himself. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually looked forward to playing cello with anyone this much. Offhandedly, he wondered if Felix would play an original melody again. If he did, Sylvain certainly wouldn't be opposed. 

Sylvain arrived at the park almost 15 minutes before their meeting time, but he couldn't help himself. Had he stayed in his apartment any longer, he would have paced a dent into the floor with his overflowing anticipation. Unsure if Felix would need a music stand, Sylvain carried two out from his car to the unfrequented gazebo in the center of the park. It was his favorite place to practice, a calm and soothing atmosphere surrounding it. 

The gazebo was rounded with solid, elevated wood flooring protected overhead by a pointed two-tier roof covered with deep blue shingles. Two small flower beds cradling a colorful assortment of flowers rested on opposite sides of the gazebo, giving it an inviting feel. There were a couple wooden benches located within which they would be using for practice.

Once the music stands were in place, Sylvain rushed back to his car to grab his cello case, hauling it quickly back to the gazebo. Something about this setup almost felt romantic.  _ Like I should be waiting for a date or something for the first time in a long time _ , Sylvain thought to himself with a laugh. 

"What's funny?" a deep voice asked from behind him, startling Sylvain to the point of nearly dropping his case. 

Sylvain spun around, surprised to see Felix there five minutes early. 

"Felix!" he greeted rather loudly, causing the other to wince slightly. Sylvain set his cello down and held both arms out as if showing off a grand prize. "Welcome to The Gazebo." 

"Such an original name," Felix grumbled as he stepped past Sylvain's outstretched arms and took a seat on one of the unoccupied benches. He was dressed a lot more casually in a simple black polo and a pair of jeans. 

Sylvain took the bench opposite Felix and got himself set up fairly quickly. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Felix glanced around them, taking in the scenery. It was a nice day out, and surprisingly they were the only ones at the park as far as Sylvain could tell. 

As Felix leaned forward to grab something out of his case, the sunlight hit in such a way that Sylvain noticed the faint blue undertones in his hair. Felix wore his hair half-up today with the top half secured in a bun, and something in Sylvain itched to weave his fingers through that hair. He wondered if it was soft. 

"How long have you lived here?" Sylvain asked, attempting small talk as he rubbed a decent amount of rosin onto his bow. 

"Not long," Felix replied, tone short as he wiped excess rosin off the strings of his violin with a soft cloth. "What are we practicing?" 

Sylvain pursed his lips as he flipped through the pages of the three different pieces. "Anything you want to work on in particular? I'm pretty familiar with all of them, so it doesn't matter to me." 

Felix sighed, exasperated. "Indecisiveness is an annoying quality."

After a couple moments, Felix settled on their second piece: the first movement of Mozart’s Symphony No. 33 in B♭ major. 

Sylvain perked up as Felix drew his bow up with grace, resting it gently upon one of the strings. There were so many things he yearned to learn about Felix. When did he start playing violin? Did he play anything before? Does he enjoy playing it? Has he ever thought about playing anything else? Did he want to go further with his playing as an established career? 

For a moment Sylvain contemplated using the metronome app he had on his phone, but with the fluctuating tempos, it probably wouldn’t be of much help. 

They locked eyes and nodded, each drawing in a breath as they began, pulling their bows across their strings in sync. Sylvain felt all logical thoughts disperse as he focused only on the sheet music secured before him and the sound of Felix’s playing beside him. The further into the piece they got, the more Sylvain realized how well they complemented each other. On occasion, Sylvain would speed a little too much, and Felix’s deliberate bow movements would reign him back in; other times Felix would get a little too lost in a drawn out note and Sylvain would have to take the lead to get his attention. It was a game of push and pull, give and take, and it was absolutely  _ electrifying _ . 

Though they didn’t have the full effect of an entire orchestra, or even the presence of more than two instruments, it didn’t feel lacking. Even during the silences where neither of them played and all they could hear outwardly was each other’s breathing, Sylvain could hear the song in his head clear as day as though the rest of the symphony were playing alongside them. That was a new experience. Generally when Sylvain practiced alone and he came across repeated rests, he simply counted them in his head until they passed and went back to playing. This time, the song was coursing through his veins, pounding in his ears whether or not there was any sort of silence. 

During one of the longer sets of rests nearing the end, Sylvain could only sit mesmerized as Felix’s skilled fingers danced effortlessly across the strings, his hand shifting downwards and back up without hesitation. Now and then he would slip up and jumble a few sixteenth notes together and his brow would furrow as he focused on trying to keep pace and not fall behind. Sylvain wasn’t sure if he realized it or not, but Felix was a very physically passionate player. He swayed forwards, sitting even taller when the music called for a crescendo, and shrunk back when he needed to soften up and take it slow. His lip would tremble every now and then, almost as though whispering into his sheet music. Light brown irises were glued to the stand in earnest as Felix gave one final downstroke as the piece finally ended. 

“Why did you stop playing halfway through?” Felix asked, annoyed and slightly breathless. 

Sylvain realized belatedly that he didn’t have a good answer for that. 

“Oh…,” Sylvain began, coughing lightly. “Kinda got distracted by how well you were playing.” Honestly was the best policy, right?

Felix said nothing to that, but the blush that tinted his cheeks said more than enough on his part. With a grin, Sylvain sat up straight and repositioned his bow. “Let’s go again. Swear I’ll pay attention this time.”

“You better,” Felix warned through a glare that probably should have rattled Sylvain but instead only widened his grin. 

Their second playthrough was much more successful save for a few errors on both their parts that Sylvain mentally kept note of. As the last note rang through the air, goosebumps popped up along his skin, and he shivered involuntarily. He hesitated bringing up any sort of flaws for fear of ruining the moment. 

“What is it?” Felix asked as he set his bow on the music stand and rested his violin in his lap. “I can tell something’s on your mind. Out with it.”

Felix already knew him so well. 

“It feels like you’re rushing some of the sixteenths too hard,” Sylvain began, figuring Felix could handle a little critique. One way or another, he was going to hear this. Better from Sylvain while they were alone than from their conductor in front of everyone. Leaning in toward Felix, Sylvain pointed at a group of notes. “These here.” He paused to look into Felix’s eyes. Bad decision. Felix looked so intent on hearing out his criticism that it was  _ almost _ cute. Almost. “Is it a trouble area for you?”

With a sigh, Felix focused on a spot somewhere beyond Sylvain’s shoulder and nodded. “I’ll admit I’ve been having trouble getting through it. What about it sounds off?”

Sylvain shouldn’t have been surprised that Felix took criticism so well - welcomed it even. He leaned back out of Felix’s personal space and hummed thoughtfully. “It’s like you get so caught up with the speed in that moment that the notes kind of tumble into each other. Instead of each note being its own, they get smooshed together to create, like, a super note or something. Not that that isn’t cool, but it probably isn’t what the conductor was going for.”

Felix nodded and pulled a pen out of his pocket, scribbling something in the margin of his sheet music. 

_ Distinguish each note. Don’t rush. _

The message honestly warmed Sylvain’s heart. For most people, the advice he gave went in one ear and out the other. They generally didn’t care much for his thoughts; they just wanted to say they’d gotten advice from the great Miklan’s younger brother. The thought always left a bad taste in his mouth. 

“Sylvain?” Felix called, waving a hand in front of Sylvain’s face. 

Sylvain shoved down his thoughts and forced a laugh, waving off the unasked questions in Felix’s eyes. 

“Wanna try again from the top?” Sylvain asked, settling comfortably on his bench. “Or maybe from a few bars before the problem area?”

Felix gave him a onceover before sighing. “Let’s try from a few measures before that spot. Actually,...”

When Felix didn’t complete his thought, Sylvain glanced over at him curiously. “Yeah?”

“Ah, never mind,” Felix murmured, clearing his throat. His cheeks heated, and now Sylvain was determined to get an answer out of him.

“No, wait! What were you going to say?” Sylvain asked. 

“It’s nothing,” Felix dismissed rather crudely, cheeks reddening further. 

Sylvain reached over and snatched the music off Felix’s stand. “I’m not giving this back until you tell me!”

Felix looked at him incredulously, holding out an expectant hand. “Give it back.”

“No,” Sylvain said simply, holding it further away from Felix. 

“Give. It. Back,” Felix demanded fiercely, standing up to reach over Sylvain. Sylvain stood as well and held the papers far above his head. He grinned as their height difference became apparent. 

Felix crossed his arms over his chest, fuming as he curled his hands into fists. “I didn’t know you were so childish, Sylvain.” 

Sylvain simply laughed and continued holding his hand above his head. “Yup. Just tell me what you were going to say.”

Sighing harshly, Felix quickly turned around and faced the park. “I want you to listen to me play again, and tell me if there’s any difference.” 

Eyes widening, Sylvain let his arm finally fall to his side. As soon as Felix heard the ruffle of papers, he turned back just enough to see them and snatch them from Sylvain’s hand, setting them on his stand again.

Felix...wanted him to listen? And give feedback? 

Well, how could he turn down a request like that. 

Sylvain nodded and tried to hold back his smug grin. “Okay. Let’s hear it, then.”

Felix scowled at him for a moment before sitting and picking up his bow again. He began from about ten measures before the problem area, and Sylvain watched with wonder as any annoyance previously showing on his features melted away into pure focus. As the pace picked up, Felix leaned forward into his stand, fingers gliding up and down the strings in a practiced manner. Sylvain would have been content to stay exactly as they were for the rest of the day. A few strands of Felix’s hair pulled free from his bun and fell into his eyes. Felix made no move to adjust it at all. Chances were he didn’t even notice it. The urge to tuck that hair behind Felix’s ear was unbelievably strong. 

As the sun began making its daily descent, the streaks of orange and red painting the sky seemed to illuminate Felix’s face. Ah, but he needed to pull it together and actually pay attention to Felix’s playing. Otherwise he’d end up on the rough end of Felix’s bow. 

Sylvain could see the concentration on Felix’s face as he powered through the cluster of notes that continually gave him issues. It sounded much better that time, each note getting its own distinction for a fraction of a second before he was onto the next. Sylvain could feel himself entering private lesson mode. Sometimes distinguished families reached out and asked if he could sit in on private lessons for their children to help guide them. He supposed that experience came in handy. 

Felix chose a decent stopping point and looked to Sylvain for comments. 

“One more time,” Sylvain said, this time closing his eyes. His lips quirked up when he heard not a single complaint from Felix. Then his ears were filled with that beautiful playing again.

Sylvain nodded to himself and reopened his eyes as Felix played the final note. “So,” he began, turning to face Felix. “I think you got the message. There was a pretty significant improvement from the first time you played. It feels less rushed and more deliberate which was exactly what I was hoping for.”

Felix snorted. “Okay, coach. I didn’t know this was a lesson.” The words held no venom - more so a hint of playfulness. 

Sylvain rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously. “Oops. Force of habit, I guess. Anyway, the sun is starting to set, so I guess we should get going?” 

“Yeah,” Felix agreed, moving to open his violin case. “How long have you been playing?”

Sylvain was a little caught off guard by the sudden interest in his history, but he jumped at the opportunity. “A loooong time. I genuinely can’t even remember anymore. However old I was to be able to fit my arms around a cello and play. What about you? How long have you played violin?”

Felix hummed contemplatively as he set carefully set his violin in its case, loosening the bow so it could follow shortly after. “Since high school.”

Sylvain gasped dramatically, nearly dropping the sheet music he was transferring to a pocket inside his cello case. “High school? Holy shit, and you play so amazing! My guess was 8 years old. Damn, I was really off.”

Felix sighed harshly and snapped his case shut. “It’s not a big deal. Fast learner, I guess.”

“You’re telling me,” Sylvain replied, grin clear as day in his voice. “What made you wanna play?”

Once they both finished packing, they relaxed into their respective benches. 

“Thought it was cool,” Felix admitted, staring off in the direction of the setting sun. His eyes glittered in the light, drawing Sylvain in like a moth to a flame. “I remembered seeing a symphony live the summer before I started high school and decided I wanted to play. I come from a family of brass players, though, so they weren’t too keen on my choice.” He wrinkled his nose in distaste at that last sentence.

Sylvain nodded and hummed as he rested a hand beside him on the bench, leaning his weight into it. “So your family is pretty strict about music stuff, too?”

“I don’t know if I’d call it strict,” Felix started, some mix of frustration and anger evident in his tone. “Entitled, more like. I’m supposed to ‘keep the legacy going’ or whatever, but why would I wanna play brass? That shit is loud and annoying. Especially when you’re practicing by yourself. Where the fuck am I supposed to practice a loud ass trumpet or some shit without an annoyed neighbor kicking down my door and telling me to shut the fuck up?”

Sylvain laughed harder than he had in a long time, free hand cradling his side as tears pricked the corners of his eyes. “Wow, we have a lot more in common than I thought, Felix.” 

“What do you mean?” Felix asked, turning to him curiously. 

Their eyes met for a brief moment before Sylvain’s laughter died down and he turned his attention to the flowerbed right beside Felix’s shoulder. “I come from a long line of distinguished cellists. I’ve literally heard my dad tell me that legacy phrase word for word before. It’s such bullshit.” Sylvain sighed and toed at the wooden flooring. “My career was basically chosen for me the second I slipped out of the womb. Solidified when I first started learning how to play because of how naturally it came to me.”

Felix made a sound of acknowledgement, sighing softer this time. “So why don’t you choose something else? Instrument, career path, anything?”

Sylvain stayed quiet for a few moments, turning his head opposite Felix to stare off into the park. A few families had made their way over, parents laughing carelessly as they watched their children play on the playground. 

“You don’t have to answer that,” Felix said when the silence stretched out a little too long. “I'm not here to pry.”

With a sigh, Sylvain turned back to him, a somewhat sad smile curving his lips upwards. “Nah, it’s fine. I’m not really interested in anything else. Never have been. This has just always been... _ it _ for me. I can’t see myself doing anything else because this is the only thing I’m good at. A weird, bittersweet feeling.” A bitter laugh crawled up Sylvain’s throat before he could stop it. “23 years old and can’t see a future for myself other than the one that’s been laid out for me since I was an actual infant.” Another second of silence passed before Sylvain stretched in place, yawning unnecessarily loud. “But anyway! Thanks for coming to practice with me today. We should do it again sometime.” 

Felix looked as though he were going to comment again but ultimately decided to let it go. He sighed as he stood, gathering his violin case in one hand. “Need help taking these back?” Felix gestured to the music stands. 

Sylvain grinned. “Yeah, that’d be great, thanks. I’m parked pretty close, so it won’t be a far walk. Did you drive here, too?”

As Felix picked up one of the stands, he shook his head. “Took the bus. I don’t have a car. Or a license for that matter.”

Sylvain swung the strap of his case over his shoulder and picked up the second stand. “Really? I can give you a ride then if you want.”

They walked close together as Sylvain led them back to his car. “It’s not a big deal, swear.”

Felix shrugged. “Yeah, then I guess that’s okay. I have 5 bucks I can give you for gas.”

Sylvain wrinkled his nose. “Do I look like an Uber? It’s fine. Friend to friend.”

“Shut up,” Felix said with a roll of his eyes. “I’m giving you the damn money, and you’re gonna take it.”

The silence during the rest of their walk to Sylvain’s car wasn’t unpleasant. As Sylvain drove to Felix’s place with the help of his GPS, he couldn’t help but feel relieved that he and Felix shared so much in common. There was finally someone who understood him by at least the smallest amount even if Felix didn’t have the full story. 

Before long, the GPS was signaling the end of their trip, and Sylvain glanced out the passenger window at the small set of apartment complexes conveniently located right across the street from his own. He hadn’t been paying attention to the directions while he was driving, too engrossed in his thoughts, but the realization pulled another laugh out of him. 

“What?” Felix asked, clearly confused and taken aback by Sylvain’s random burst of laughter. “Listen, it might not be a big apartment, but fuck off. Existing is expensive.”

“No, that’s not it!” Sylvain remedied as he tried to stifle his laughter. “It’s just...I live across the street.” He pointed out his own window at the very similarly built complex. 

Felix raised both brows, taken off guard by the coincidence. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Sylvain said with another small laugh. “Now you really can’t give me any money. Try it, and I’ll find which apartment is yours and slip it under your door.”

“You’re on,’ Felix retaliated. He pulled five dollars out of his wallet and tossed the bills at Sylvain before making a hasty exit from the car. Before Sylvain could even collect all the bills, Felix had shut the door behind him and headed toward one of the second level apartments. He grinned and placed the bills in his wallet. One day he’d make good on his promise to slip it back under Felix’s door. 

With a lingering smile on his face, Sylvain checked traffic both ways before pulling across to his side of the street to find parking. He decided to leave the music stands in his car in case Felix wanted to meet and practice again anytime soon and heaved the strap of his cello case over his shoulder to bring it into his apartment. 

As soon as he got settled on his couch, he checked his phone and any signs of a smile disappeared without a trace, giving way to the frown he usually associated with unwelcome messages from his family. 

**Father**

_ Call me. _

Sylvain grimaced before hitting the dial option and holding the phone up to his ear. It was better to get whatever conversation was about to happen out of the way sooner rather than later. 

“ _ Sylvain _ ,” his father greeted sternly as soon as he answered. 

“What is it?” Sylvain asked, not feeling up to beating around the bush at that particular moment. 

  
  


“ _You could show some respect,_ ” his father began, unenthused. “ _You were supposed to come by to provide a private lesson to one of the symphony member’s children._ _Thanks to your absence, I had to excuse your insolence and give the lesson myself._ ”

Sylvain sighed. Loudly. Jaw clenched, he listened to his father go on and on about what a disappointment he was becoming. How before, Sylvain would never even dream of missing out on an opportunity to educate the youth, blah blah blah. The issue was his father never explicitly asked for his approval before agreeing to these random lessons. He never had. Sylvain would receive random messages here and there with locations and times, and Sylvain would just be forced to clear his schedule for the day and tend to whatever high end player’s child needed private lessons. The kids refused to listen to him half the time anyway and would spend their time complaining about how bored they were. Kids ranging from elementary school to high school. 

“That’s not my job,” Sylvain finally said after taking a deep breath in through his nose. “I spent my time practicing today for the symphony that I’m  _ actually _ in.”

“ _Please_ ,” his father spat sarcastically. “ _Don’t_ _act like you couldn’t play any of those songs with your eyes closed._ ” 

_ Keep the peace _ , Sylvain reminded himself. He gave a resigned sigh. 

“Fine, I’m sorry,” he apologized without any real meaning. “But could you at least start asking me if I want to take on these lessons before you just throw them at me? I do have a life of my own.”

His father grunted into the receiver and hung up. What a riveting conversation. 

Sylvain let the hand holding his phone fall to his side and rest on the couch. His head fell back against the couch, and he stared at the ceiling as he thought over the conversation with his father. And then his conversation with Felix. 

Felix had asked why he hadn’t chosen another career path or instrument in the past to focus on. It was too late for all that. Sylvain had determined that a while ago. Back when he did have a shot at changing his future, he was still submerged in the mindset that this path was the only path for him and that he would succeed with confidence. Now, many years later, everything else felt too out of reach. Mercedes often talked about her last year of medical school with a calm sort of passion that still shone bright. Annette was still unsure of exactly what she wanted to do, but she spoke highly about the parts of her current undergraduate education that she really enjoyed. Ashe was much the same as Annette - part of the reason the two got along so well now. Ingrid held a fierce passion for sports, and that was what continued to spur her on. 

But Sylvain? He didn’t have that element to hold onto and keep him motivated. When the others asked what he saw himself doing, the answer was always the same: a swift gesture to his cello and a simple, “this.” 

Some time passed before Sylvain’s phone buzzed in his hand and pulled him from his thoughts. A glance down showed a text message from Felix, and he couldn’t help the smile that started to form. 

**Felix**

_ Uh I think I grabbed your music by accident.  _

A picture came a few seconds later of three pieces of music made for the cello. 

Sylvain walked over to his case to check out the music he had, and sure enough it was for the first violin. 

**Me**

_ Oops! Yeah I have yours lol. What’s your apartment #? I can bring it over rn _

Another buzz following shortly after.

**Felix**

_ Yeah right. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the money thing. Tell me your apartment number, and I’ll bring it to you. _

Sylvain had genuinely forgotten about his playful threat to slip the money back under Felix’s door, and the fact that Felix hadn’t made him chuckle as he sent his next message. 

**Me**

_ Apt 2C _

**Felix**

_ Be there soon. _

As promised, only about ten minutes or so passed before a knock came from Sylvain’s front door. He jumped up from the couch and pulled the door open, weirdly relieved to see Felix standing there after the unpleasant phone call with his father. 

Felix held the sheet music out to Sylvain. His hair was still in the same half-up do, and Sylvain  _ still _ wanted to tuck those rogue pieces behind Felix’s ear. Instead, he shoved down the urge and stepped aside to invite Felix in. When Felix simply raised a brow and made no movement to enter, Sylvain laughed. 

“I’m not gonna bite. Unless that’s what you like,” Sylvain said with a wink, reveling in the way Felix’s cheeks reddened even through the aggressive eyeroll he received in response. 

Regardless of his outward reaction, Felix stepped past the threshold and glanced around the apartment as Sylvain closed the door. 

“Questions? Comments? Concerns?” Sylvain asked as he grabbed the sheet music from on top of his cello case. 

“Feels like you just moved in or something,” Felix commented as he set Sylvain’s sheet music down on the living room coffee table. 

Sylvain snorted as he handed Felix the correct papers. “Then you’d be surprised to hear I’ve lived here for almost two years now.”

Felix raised both brows this time as he turned to face Sylvain. A shrug followed soon after. “It’s not my business. It’s pretty empty, though.”

“Yeah,” Sylvain agreed, leaning against the back of the couch and crossing his arms over his chest. “Never got around to really decorating. Guess part of me wanted to believe I wouldn’t be here for this long.”

“What do you mean?” Felix asked as he wandered the living room space, looking over the small collection of photos Sylvain kept beneath his television. Sylvain ignored the miniscule fluttering his heart betrayed him with. Not many people cared enough to ask him to elaborate on some of the things he said if they didn’t concern music. 

“I dunno. I thought maybe I’d find something last second that would take me the hell away from here,” Sylvain explained, shrugging in defeat. “As you can see, that didn’t happen.”

“Something like what?” Felix questioned, bending over so he was eye level with the photos. Sylvain smiled. The photos that were on display were ones that brought back fond memories. One was of him with his first ever cello, smile wide and bright with teeth as crooked as they came. Braces were a look he sported for a good few years. Felix didn’t have to know that small detail. 

“A random life-changing job interview maybe? Or a sudden realization of what I actually wanted to do with my life,” Sylvain joked, but there was a sad undertone he hoped Felix wouldn’t pick up on. 

Felix glanced back over his shoulder before turning his attention to the photos again. “Things won’t just fall into your lap like that. You have to actually go after them.”

Sylvain’s smile faltered and he sighed, padding over to the kitchen which was still in plain view of the living room. “Want anything to drink?”

Felix chose not to acknowledge the sudden change of topic. “What do you have?”

Humming, Sylvain pulled open his refrigerator. “Water. Sunny D. Uh...beer if you’re into that. Milk? And...a half-finished bottle of ginger ale. Oh, there’s tea, too. It’s finally not so hot that drinking hot tea is unbearable.” 

Footsteps heading toward Sylvain indicated Felix was approaching. “What kind of beer do you have?” 

Sylvain grinned and looked over at Felix. “Trying to get me drunk in my own home?”

A scoff. “Shut up, Sylvain.” 

Though it was disguised in a half-insulting comment, the way Felix said his name had no business making his stomach flip the way it did. He gestured to the inside of the refrigerator. “Um, Modelo. That’s what Annette brought over the last time she and a few others visited. Doesn’t taste great, honestly, so it’s just been sitting there.”

Felix shook his head and leaned against the counter. “Tea is fine.”

Sylvain nodded and went about his normal routine of preparing tea. “Is your family originally from here?” he asked, curious as to how Felix could have found himself in his somewhat small hometown. 

“No,” Felix answered, attention suddenly drawn toward Sylvain’s countertop. “My hometown is a couple towns over. Just wanted to go off on my own.”

After pulling a couple mugs from his barren cabinet, he poured steaming water into each, the scent of chamomile wafting up toward him as it began steeping. Something about Felix’s tone stopped him from questioning further. He handed one mug to Felix and cradled his own in both hands. They stayed silent for a little while, sipping tea as the air around them grew a little awkward. 

“There’s a reason I left,” Felix admitted quietly after a long stretch of silence. Those golden eyes refused to meet his own, trained only on the tea inside his mug. 

“What’s that?” Sylvain asked, not wanting to push the subject too much, but Felix did give him an opening to ask. 

A soft sigh. “My father and I...aren’t on the greatest terms. I mentioned earlier that there were some differences of opinion regarding me playing violin, but it goes further than that.” He glanced up at Sylvain as though unsure if he should keep speaking. 

Sylvain nodded in encouragement, remaining uncharacteristically quiet. 

“I really don’t know why I’m telling this all to you,” Felix muttered, taking another sip of tea. “But oh well. There’s a reason he was so adamant about me picking up a brass instrument. Literally any brass instrument would do for him. The stupid old man just couldn’t let my older brother go.”

Felix grumbled the last part almost too quiet for him to hear. 

“Your brother?” Sylvain asked, attentive. 

“Mhm. He...passed away a while back. He was a really skilled trumpet player. Performed all over the state and sometimes even different parts of the country,” Felix recalled, tone impassive and steady. “It’s been 8 years, and my father still can’t let him go. He wants me to fill Glenn’s shoes somehow and become this great trumpet player or whatever. Bullshit if you ask me. Before Glenn passed, which was a very unanticipated passing by the way, he had told me to do whatever I wanted. To not be held back by anything. The cliche idiot is the one who convinced me to pick up the violin and then passed shortly after.”

Sylvain listened intently, eyes never leaving Felix’s face though their eyes never met. 

“Anyway, the old man still harps on me about this,” Felix gestured vaguely toward Sylvain’s cello case, “and I finally got sick of it. Told him I was moving and left. I had some help getting here, but other than that, that’s it. That’s why I’m here.”

“That’s a hell of a journey,” Sylvain said quietly, a soft laugh escaping him. “And I’m sorry to hear about your brother. I’ve got an older brother too, and even if he’s a dick, I couldn’t imagine how it’d feel.”

Felix waved off his condolences and set his empty mug on the counter. “It was a long time ago.”

Sylvain shrugged and grabbed Felix’s empty mug, setting it in the sink alongside his own. “Long time ago or not.” 

“So what about you, then?” Felix asked, raising a brow. “Still think we have similar situations?”

With a laugh, Sylvain led them both to his couch. “Guess not so much. If you’re up to sticking around, I can bore you with my shitty sob story?” 

Felix snorted and plopped down on the couch. “Do your worst.”

That brought another genuine grin to Sylvain’s lips. 

“Well, you’ve already heard most of it, so I guess there isn’t much to fill you in on,” Sylvain said as he thought back on their earlier conversation. “I’m basically a step stool for a bunch of ass kissing rich people to get to my older brother, Miklan, and our father. Both are esteemed cellists in the music world, I guess. They’ve made names for themselves in this industry and basically shoved the next generation of stress and expectation onto me,” Sylvain explained, lips turning down. He chuckled darkly. “I’m already a disappointment to them. By the time Miklan was my age, he had composed so much music he was practically drowning in it. I’ve got a good few under my belt, but only after forcing myself to write some shit down on a blank music sheet and try to make it sound good.”

Beside him, Felix just listened. He made no move to interrupt, simply there to listen to what Sylvain had to say. And damn was that a nice feeling. Finally he could let loose about some of his inner thoughts, even if they’re to someone he had just met the day before. That could be advantageous; he had a clean slate to work with. 

“I don’t care about this,” Sylvain said, sighing with exasperation. “I don’t care about composing music or getting on peoples’ good sides so they’ll invite me to play at events. I couldn’t care less about any of that bullshit, but it’s all I’ve got going.” 

As Sylvain went on, the crease between Felix's brows deepened. He almost looked...irritated? Jaw set, eyes avoiding his own, arms crossed over his chest. Once Felix finished telling his story, they sat in silence. 

"Thoughts?" Sylvain asked. Felix seemed to be stewing on something, so Sylvain figured he'd give him an opening to bring it up. 

"You sure you wanna hear it? You're not gonna like it," Felix warned. 

Sylvain shrugged. “It can’t be worse than anything I’ve already heard.”

“If you want out so bad, then go,” Felix pushed, tone rising. His words had a harsh bite to them that instantly caught Sylvain’s attention. “Nobody’s forcing you to stay in this world and play music that you don’t give a fuck about. It sounds to me like you’re conflicted about whether you truly want to stay in the music industry or not, and it’s about time you make a decision. Think of the place you hold right now.” Felix paused and gestured vaguely with both arms. “You’re in the top spot of the symphony, and you have gigs lined up for the next fuckin’ century. If you don’t want to be a part of this anymore, then  _ go _ . This spot could be better occupied by somebody with a passion for this shit. Someone whose lifelong dream is to be in your position.”

Stunned silent, Sylvain could only stare as Felix went on. Everybody he had ever spoken to before only ushered him in one direction: becoming a top performing cellist. Now and then he would hint at wanting to pursue something different, and all he was met with was disappointed sighs and comments about wasted talent. But here Felix Fraldarius is, sitting in his living room, positively  _ berating _ him about being so indecisive about his future. 

Before Sylvain could stop himself, he was laughing. The laughter came just as freely to him the second time as it did the first. His eyes watered, and he wasn’t really sure if it was the laughter or something else entirely. 

“What?” Felix questioned, outraged. “What are you laughing at  _ now _ ?” 

Sylvain waved him off. “It’s nothing! Nothing. Just...everything you just said to me is the polar opposite of what I’ve been told my whole life. It’s refreshing, honestly.”

Felix cocked a brow, looking a little at him like he was crazy, but relented. “So you’re not mad?”

“About what?” Sylvain asked, confused as the last few tremors of laughter ran through his body. 

“Me basically telling you off,” Felix replied with a wince. “I didn’t really mean for it to come off that way, but it is what it is. I won’t take it back.”

“I’m not asking you to take it back,” Sylvain said with a grin. If he could have someone like Felix - no - if he could have  _ Felix _ himself by his side for at least part of this journey, then maybe it would be worth it. Maybe he could push himself to new heights. Maybe he could learn to love music again. 

With Felix staring at him, eyebrows raised in that slightly annoyed manner as Sylvain ran through this internal conflict, he felt something inside him come to life. 

“You know what? I think I’ll give this music thing another shot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm only anticipating this to be two or three chapters so it shouldn't be terribly long!! i'll probably keep it marked as two for now and we'll see what happens. i've already started writing the next part of this, so it should be up pretty soon too!
> 
> aaaaah i hope you enjoyed!!! this has been a lot of fun to write so far ;w;


	2. legato

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO
> 
> i have another chapter in mind for this so i changed the projected chapter number to 3! it's so easy to get lost in writing for this au ugh it's been one of my absolute favorites to write so far
> 
> lemme know what you think and aaaa i hope you enjoy!

Sylvain and Felix fell into a habit of sorts after their first couple days of getting to know each other. On days where they had practice, Sylvain would drive them both there (after a reluctant agreement from Felix), and Felix would buy them either lunch or dinner to make up for it. Sylvain insisted that Felix didn’t need to do that, that Sylvain wasn’t going out of his way considering Felix lived  _ right across the street. _ Still, Sylvain had learned to just go with it. Once Felix was set on a decision, he most often refused to waver. 

Slowly, Sylvain had been relearning what it meant to appreciate music. He couldn’t say he loved it much more than before, but his appreciation and liking for it were growing. One night a couple weeks after their initial meeting, Felix had come over with his violin, and they played together. It was nothing extravagant or immediately relevant to their ensemble pieces; they just played whatever they felt like playing. For Sylvain, that meant digging up some old copies of pieces he had buried in a neglected drawer long ago. Ones that he knew had some semblance of a good memory attached to them. Adagio for Strings, the piece he shared a love for with Ashe, carried with it a feeling of freedom and joy. He first played it in an orchestra many years prior when life wasn’t so suffocating. 

It was easily apparent that they were becoming more comfortable with each other as well. Their conversations in person and via text were all just as engaging. Felix came to learn that Sylvain didn’t take the greatest care of himself when it came to properly making and eating meals on time. This resulted in nightly messages of Felix threatening to storm over to Sylvain’s apartment and shove his bow where the sun don’t shine if Sylvain didn’t make a proper meal and eat it. 

As time passed, their communication became an integral part of Sylvain’s daily routine. It was rare, if ever, that he went a full 24 hours without hearing from the moody violinist. Felix’s friendship was the blessing he never knew he needed. But with it came different feelings.  _ New _ feelings. 

Sylvain had been with his fair share of people in the past, whether those be truly romantic endeavors or just passing flings. None of them stuck around for one reason or another, but it never really bothered him. Having that company was nice while it lasted, but he never yearned for it the way he’d heard others did. Friends and strangers alike always told him it was because he hadn’t found the right person yet; to that, Sylvain laughed and agreed, swiftly moving the conversation on to other topics. Discussing his love life with people who weren’t directly involved in it wasn’t something he was particularly keen on. Especially when those people had so much to say about something they knew so little of. 

This budding friendship with Felix brought out feelings Sylvain wasn’t sure he knew he was capable of feeling before. A large part of him ached to know more about Felix. Sylvain wished to learn everything there was about him. But he never pushed for Felix to open up to him for fear of crossing a boundary that wasn’t yet meant to be crossed. Not only that, but he figured if he were in Felix’s position, he’d respect that same sentiment. Whenever Felix  _ did _ open up to him, it felt that much more rewarding. To know that Felix was entrusting him with a part of himself that wasn’t often shared with others made Sylvain’s entire being feel warm. 

By the time December rolled around, Sylvain was acutely aware of his feelings for Felix. He wasn’t dull; it wasn’t difficult to tell what feelings were manifesting within him when just Felix’s presence alone was enough to send his heart racing a damn marathon. He’d decided to wait it out and gauge Felix’s actions around him before acting on anything. If anything, the sense of warmth that encompassed him while he was with Felix was comforting. Sylvain would be satisfied even if he didn’t act on his feelings in the end. 

Their first official concert together as an ensemble was scheduled for the first weekend of December. The rehearsals and performance of their previous free concert served as a way for everyone old and new in the orchestra to learn each others playing habits. And so they did. Sylvain and his second chair, whose name he finally learned was Bernadetta, actually got along pretty well. They shared a love for literature, and he was pleasantly surprised to learn she wrote original content. Of course, he was shut down the second he asked to read a manuscript of hers, but one day she would warm up to him. 

On the day of their concert, Sylvain had driven himself and Felix to the venue. This venue was much bigger and the anticipated audience count was generous to say the least. The entire ride to the venue, Sylvain could see Felix’s leg shaking out of the corner of his eye. 

“Nervous?” Sylvain asked, holding back a smile. 

“What? No,” Felix responded, pointedly staring out the window. 

“If you say so,” Sylvain retaliated, tone light and playful. That earned him a sharp glare to which he laughed. 

“A little,” Felix muttered so quietly Sylvian almost missed it. 

Sylvain raised both eyebrows in surprise. He was just teasing; he didn’t think Felix would actually admit any nervousness to him. 

“What’s got you nervous?” Sylvain asked, eyes on the road but still attentive toward Felix’s worries. 

Felix sighed, short but heavy. “There are a lot of expectations that come with being first violin. And my solos...it’s not that I don’t feel confident in them. I don’t know what it is, actually. Ah, never mind.” Felix huffed out another sigh and closed his eyes, leaning his head back on the seat. 

“Wanna hear something that’ll make you want to punch me?” Sylvain asked, chancing a glance over at Felix during a red light. Perhaps he shouldn’t have, considering the sight he was met with. They were in formal tuxedos, a requirement given by their conductor. Felix’s bowtie was just a tad crooked, and it took everything in Sylvain not to reach over and adjust it himself. Instead of his usual bun, Felix decided to comb most of his hair over to one sided and combed back the remaining, securing it all back into a ponytail. The look suited him really well. Images of Felix standing in front of a mirror, practiced fingers brushing his hair back the way he envisioned crossed Sylvain’s mind. How he wished he could see that for himself. Maybe one day he would. 

“What?” Felix responded, cracking one eye open, clearly surprised to see Sylvain’s full attention on him. His cheeks heated just slightly, and he closed his eye again. “Pay attention to the road. I won’t be stressing this hard over this concert just to get in an accident before I even get to the venue.” 

Sylvain chuckled and turned his attention back to the road right as the light turned green. “You’re starting to recognize your weak points a lot easier. By the time I notice something is off, you’re already improving it during the next playthrough. You’ll be great out there, trust me.”

There was no immediate response, and a part of Sylvain wished desperately to glance over at Felix and see if that pretty pink color had graced his cheeks again. 

“Whatever,” Felix grumbled with no real bite. His leg stopped shaking after that, though. Sylvain hoped to count that as a success. 

By the time they found parking and made their way inside with their respective instruments, many of the others were already seated backstage and practicing. Sylvain left Felix with a nod and made his way to his spot. Luckily Felix was directly across from him, so he wouldn’t be too far out of sight. Their practice setup backstage was much the same as the setup on the actual stage. 

As usual, it didn’t take Sylvain long to set himself up. With his music in double checked and in place, Sylvain set his cello down on its side beside him and rested his bow on the music stand. 

“Feeling alright, Bernie?” he asked as he turned to face Bernadetta. He knew how nervous she could get about performing in front of an audience. During rehearsals, it didn’t take her long to adjust to playing comfortably, but performing in front of a large crowd was a different story. 

“Y-Yeah,” Bernadetta stuttered. “Never better.”

Sylvain could tell she was lying through her teeth by the vice grip she kept on her bow. Calling her out on that would probably only worsen things for her, so he decided not to comment on it. 

“Just remember,” Sylvain began as he picked up his cello and positioned it in front of him. “Take deep breaths before we start, and keep your eyes on the music. Nothing else exists. Just the orchestra.” 

Some of the fearfulness in her features seemed to melt away as her grip on the bow slowly loosened. Bernadetta nodded to herself. “Just us. Okay, I can do this.”

With a satisfied nod, Sylvain turned back to his music. He was ready to practice, bow hovering right above the strings when a soft melody began forming in the back of his mind. Shocked at himself, he quickly flipped over his sheet music and roughly sketched out the beginnings of the melody. It was a rare occasion when original music came to him instead of him having to force something down onto paper. 

Once he had a good few measures written out, Sylvain picked up his bow again and ran through the short set of notes. The key signature and tempo hadn’t been worked out yet necessarily, so he just went with what came to him. The melody was slow and deep, resounding lower notes from his cello working in perfect harmony with the higher notes that followed shortly after. After some minor initial tweaks, Sylvain was actually looking forward to going home that night and figuring out where he could go with this. 

For the time being, Sylvain flipped his sheet music back around and started practicing some random measures. The doors would be opening fairly soon, and the conductor would be calling them out for introductions. 

Practicing soon got boring, of course, and Sylvain found himself wandering over to Felix with his cello in hand. 

Felix kept his violin tucked under his chin, practicing without interruption despite Sylvain’s presence. “Can I help you?”

Sylvain chuckled. “Wow, doesn’t this feel familiar?”

With a sigh, Felix finally set his violin in his lap. His coat was draped across the back of his chair, leaving only the striking white of his dress shirt visible. Felix took very good care of his body, and that much was clear through the way his dress shirt hugged him. But that was neither here nor there. 

“What is it?” Felix asked, cocking a brow. 

“Have you ever tried playing cello?” Sylvain asked, suddenly overcome with the desire to see Felix play his instrument. 

Felix shook his head. “I’ve never picked up anything other than a violin before.”

“Wanna try?” Sylvain offered, tapping a finger over the top of his cello. 

“ _ Now _ ?” Felix asked incredulously. He scoffed. “Sylvain, we’ll be called up any minute now.”

“Fine. Come to my apartment later, then?” Sylvain figured if he couldn’t get Felix to play his cello at that moment, then later that night would suffice. Maybe it’d even somehow help with the developing melody floating around his mind. 

“I guess,” Felix said by way of acceptance. 

Satisfied, Sylvain made his way back to his seat just in time for the conductor to step through the door. 

The conductor took a general headcount, breathing a sigh of relief when all of the players were present. He led them to the stage which had been curtained off, seats and stands already set up in a familiar half-circle. Everyone headed to their spots as quietly as they could, the buzzing of the audience striking a nerve within most of them. This was it. The big concert day. 

The venue fit just over a couple thousand people. Their performance wasn’t exactly sold out, but the prospect that any amount of people even  _ near _ that many could be there to see them was enough to incite nerves in anybody regardless of their experience. 

Sylvain locked eyes with Annette as she took her spot beside Felix and she sent a toothy grin and a thumbs up his way. With a laugh, Sylvain winked at her and took his seat. He had performed alone in front of this many people before, so the pre-show jitters skipped over him and went onto the next person. When Bernadetta took her seat beside him, she looked uncharacteristically calm. 

“All good?” Sylvain whispered as the rest of the ensemble took their seats. 

Bernadetta took a deep breath in through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. “Never better. It’s just us. Just us.”

Sylvain chuckled and adjusted his music accordingly. As long as that thought was keeping her calm, that’s all that mattered. 

They did a collective tuning with the curtains still shielding them from the audience. With each string he tuned, Sylvain would glance up at Felix only to find Felix already looking in his direction. Felix broke the eye contact first each time, clearing his throat presumably as he refocused on his instrument. It was such a simple interaction, but it brought a smile to Sylvain’s lips nonetheless. 

Before long, the curtains were drawn, revealing a fairly packed house. Suddenly all eyes were on them as the conductor ran through his normal preamble, reiterating the history of the orchestra and all that for what felt like the millionth time to Sylvain, but one of the first times for some of the newcomers. 

Out of habit, Sylvain allowed his body to move on autopilot through the first song. His eyes skimmed the sheet music, seeing it but not truly paying attention to it. His fingers moved along the strings in time with the beat, bow drawing back and pushing forward when the music called for it. Crescendos and decrescendos came easy while the familiar tempo fluctuations flowed practically as second nature. It was plain. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing, but it brought no excitement to Sylvain. The one thing he truly looked forward to were the series of repeated rests that were approaching much too slowly. That block of rest meant it was time for Felix’s solo, and he desperately wished to hear it. Felix wouldn’t practice the solo with him when they were alone, so the only time he was able to hear it was during rehearsal. It had been far too long since their last rehearsal of the first piece anyway, so Sylvain was itching to hear it again. 

At long last, those series of blissful rests appeared, and Sylvain gracefully placed his bow in its resting position just as the others did. Felix’s molten eyes met his own, and the rest of the world dimmed down around him. Seeing Felix like this was breathtaking; he was focused, determination practically radiating off him, lips just slightly parted. It was almost erotic in a way. Sylvain offered a smile and an encouraging nod. Felix’s lips unexpectedly twitched upward before his attention fell to his music again. 

That unimaginable feeling returned; Sylvain’s entire being was soon encompassed by the hypnotic sounds of Felix’s violin. Each note squeezed at his heart, Felix’s resonating vibrato strung him along to a world so foreign and tempting.The melody flowed flawlessly, and Sylvain wanted nothing more than to stay in that moment for an eternity. 

All too soon, Felix’s notes faded into the air and Sylvain’s awareness returned to him. He positioned his bow right before his strings, ready for the conductor’s cue for him to continue. It was moments like that where Sylvain was thankful for his abundance of experience playing that particular piece because his mind was far from genuinely paying attention. Especially after Felix graced him with another half-smile the second his solo was over. 

The rest of the performance passed fairly slow, but that may have been due to Sylvain’s building anticipation of afterward. Though slow, the passing time wasn’t necessarily unbearable. His mind never strayed from Felix as he went through the motions of playing each piece. 

Soon enough, he was standing in unison with the rest of the ensemble, taking their bows as the audience respectfully applauded them. The conductor shared some parting words before the curtains closed, closing them off from the outside world. 

“Wow,” Bernadetta whispered from beside him. She dared not talk above a whisper for fear of breaking the post-performance atmosphere on stage. 

As the conductor ushered them backstage, everyone finally felt comfortable talking normally again. Sylvain kept mostly to himself as he made it back to his cello case and began putting his things away. 

“So,” a soft voice called out from behind Sylvain. “Felix, huh?”

Sylvain glanced behind him and was met with a knowing smile from none other than Mercedes. She had a tendency to be eerily spot-on with her perceptions of his emotions and feelings. Sylvain liked to think he could keep his true emotions hidden behind some sort of facade, but she could read him like an open book without hesitation. 

“What do you mean?” Sylvain questioned as he flipped down the clasps of his cello case. 

The pianist laughed gently and adjusted her sheet music in her grasp. “You two seem to be growing awfully close.”

“Something wrong with that?” Sylvain asked, unsure of why the sudden defensiveness came over him. 

Mercedes shook her head. “Of course not, Sylvain. I think it’s wonderful.”

Sylvain hesitated but smiled, some of that defensiveness still lingering. “Well if I have approval from the world’s most beautiful pianist, then I must be in luck.”

“Does he know how you feel?” she asked, soft blue eyes peering into his own curiously. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Sylvain played off, waving a hand around. 

Mercedes hummed, the corners of her lips just barely tipping upward. “You know exactly what I mean. I won’t push you, though,” she stated with a gentle smile. “My brother is here, so I should get going. Have a nice night, Sylvain.” Her tone wasn’t accusatory which Sylvain was most thankful for. 

As Mercedes walked off, Felix approached, waiting for Sylvain to drive them home as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Sylvain’s heart gave a painful squeeze. 

  
Sylvain slung the strap of his cello over one shoulder and gestured toward the side exit that would lead them to the staff parking lot. “Ready?”

They were about to head out after some final goodbyes before he heard Annette’s voice call out to him from across the room. He turned to watch as she wove her way through the small crowd of people, finally stopping in front of him slightly out of breath. 

“Sylvain! How could you leave without saying goodbye?” she chided goodnaturedly, a small pout forming on her lips. 

“Annette, I literally said goodbye to you and waved,” Sylvain reminded her, a chuckle escaping him. 

“That’s beside the point,” she said, pointedly ignoring the words he just said. “Anyway! A few of us were gonna meet for drinks tonight to celebrate a victorious performance. Care to join? You too, Felix!!” 

Sylvain looked to Felix for his response. He would go if Felix went. Really his only goal for the night was to spend time with Felix and sort out the new melody that somehow started forming in his mind. “Did you want to go?”

Felix shrugged. “It’s up to you. I’ll go where you go since you’re the one driving me around.”

Annette tugged on Sylvain’s jacket sleeve with pleading eyes. “Come on, it’s been forever since the last time we all went out together! Ashe and Ingrid are going. Even Bernadetta said she’d come! Mercedes said she would meet us there later, too. 

Since Felix didn’t seem to have an issue with it, Sylvain couldn’t see the harm in going. “Alright, you win. Where and what time?”

Annette clapped her hands together happily, eyes shining. It really had been a while since they last got to hang out and relax. “In about an hour! So 8 p.m.? Our usual bar.”

Sylvain grinned and made a second attempt for the door. “Sounds great. We’ll be there!”

This time Annette let him go with an enthusiastic wave as she presumably went back into the room to grab her things. Felix followed him out to his car silently. 

“You don’t have to feel pressured to go,” Sylvain said as they stepped into his car. “I can say you weren’t feeling well or something.”

Felix rolled his eyes and buckled himself in. “I’m fine with going. Don’t worry about it.”

“If you say so,” Sylvain said with a grin. “We should have enough time to get changed and head over. Did you just want to meet at my car when you’re ready? You know where I always park.”

“That’s fine,” Felix said, voice softer this time - more tired sounding. 

“Your solo was incredible,” Sylvain murmured as they drove down the somewhat empty highway. He knew Felix didn’t take compliments very well, but he needed to acknowledge Felix’s performance somehow. 

Felix gave a short hum, and Sylvain didn’t have to see his face to know his cheeks were reddening. “You weren’t bad either.”

Sylvain gasped in false offense. “‘Not bad’? My performance must have been severely lacking tonight. I’ll admit I did have something on my mind most of the time.”

Felix released an embarrassed sigh and cleared his throat. “You know that’s not what I meant. You were...great, too.”

“I’m kidding, Felix,” Sylvain said with a laugh. “But thank you. A compliment like that coming from a top performer like yourself? I’ve gotta say that feels pretty good.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Sylvain could see Felix shaking his head.

The rest of their ride home was mostly in silence - something that didn’t bother either of them. Once out of the car, Sylvain couldn’t help one last sweep of Felix’s retreating figure. He knew it wouldn’t be the last time he’d see Felix in a tuxedo, but he also knew the next time was already much too far away. Felix waved over his shoulder as he disappeared across the street. 

With a small smile, Sylvain made his way up to his apartment and traded his tux for a much more comfortable pair of light jeans, a black long sleeve shirt, and a forest green bomber jacket to go over it. He killed some time by tidying up his apartment. He wasn’t sure if Felix still wanted to come over after the drinks they’d be sharing, but he figured he was better safe than sorry. 

When the time finally came, Sylvain patted his pocket to ensure his wallet was there, grabbed his keys, and headed down to his car where Felix was apparently already waiting for him. Felix stood there, scrolling through something or other on his phone, blissfully unaware of the effect he was having on Sylvain. Felix shared his idea of changing into comfortable clothes and donned a regular pair of jeans along with a turtleneck that perfectly matched the color of the coat Sylvain was currently wearing, and  _ fuck _ did he look good in it. A black jacket was casually draped over his arm as he continued scrolling through his phone. Sylvain’s mouth went dry. How could something as simple as the way Felix dressed have such an impact on him?

“You just gonna stand there staring?” Felix asked without looking up from his phone. This time Sylvain’s cheeks heated of their own accord, and he hastily unlocked his car and moved around to step in. It was going to be a long night. 

By the time they reached the bar, it appeared Annette and Ingrid had already begun drinking. Annette practically launched herself at Sylvain, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug that was quite literally squeezing the breath out of him. He returned her hug for a few seconds before finally pulling back. “Can’t breathe!” he choked out, and Annette pulled back, all smiles and no remorse. She was small, but she was mighty.

“Felix!” Annette greeted cheerfully. Sylvain could tell she was hesitant about giving him the same crushing hug treatment. “I’m glad you could make it!!”

Annette led them to a table close to the bar counter. There, they were able to properly greet Mercedes, Ashe, and Ingrid. Turned out Bernadetta wasn’t able to make it after all. Sylvain understood; it must have felt too overwhelming to her considering she didn’t know the others that well. 

As Sylvain took his seat, he tried desperately not to think about his sudden close proximity to Felix. Annette offered to buy the first round of drinks for Sylvain and Felix, and Sylvain sure wasn’t complaining. The second the drink was set in front of him, he was slamming it back, the taste of ginger beer and gin lingering on his tongue after. It was pretty good. 

Sylvain could sense Felix’s eyes on him, but he kept his attention trained forward, trying to stay engaged in whatever conversation was happening. Annette divulged her worries about her own performance earlier, even sniffling for dramatic effect. Ingrid rubbed comforting circles on her back, confusion evident on her face as she tried to determine if Annette was actually crying or not. 

After a couple more drinks, Sylvain was beginning to feel much more relaxed - and warm. He shrugged off his jacket and let it hang on the back of his chair. Maybe it was just the alcohol, but as he turned his head to ask Felix a question about his favorite key signature, a topic he couldn’t remember who started, he noticed Felix’s eyes lingering on him for much longer than they normally did. Soft brown eyes swept over his upper body before unapologetically meeting his own. Felix simply picked up his drink again and took a sip. Sylvain’s question died in his throat. In an attempt to hide his surprise, he flashed a grin and shot a wink Felix’s way.

Aware of the fact that he would be driving Felix and himself home later that night, Sylvain decided to switch to water for the remainder of the evening. Mercedes, who had been somewhat quiet for most of their time together, met Sylvain’s eyes. She raised a brow, and he already knew what question was forming in her mind. Sylvain cleared his throat and minutely shook his head as he took another sip of ice water. 

Once Felix was finished with his drink, he switched to water as well. 

“You can keep drinking if you want,” Sylvain said under his breath, leaning in toward Felix. 

Felix shook his head. “I still want to be coherent enough to watch you attempt to play my violin once we get back to your place.”

Sylvain’s eyes widened and a smile curled his lips upward, pleasantly surprised that Felix remembered. “Works for me, then.”

The next couple hours passed pleasantly. Conversation eventually drifted from any musical topics to more personal topics about hobbies and relationships. 

Ingrid, who had been challenged to match Annette drink for drink and had succeeded (somewhat), turned to Felix, her beer tipping dangerously in her hand as she leaned forward. “Felix! What about you? Are you,” hiccup, “seeing anyone? You’re soooo handsome! Sylvain agrees.” A giggle. “There’s no way you can be single!~”

The question struck something odd within Sylvain. He realized he didn’t actually know the answer to that question either. Relationship status and romantic history hadn’t really been a topic of conversation for them during their time of getting to know one another. Felix could very well have a significant other back home. Or even here in town. He tried not to let that thought dampen his expression. If Felix did have someone, then that person was incredibly lucky. 

Embarrassed at all the eyes on him, Felix cleared his throat. “No, I’m not dating anybody.” 

With no further elaboration, Felix nodded toward Mercedes, desperate to get the attention off him. “What about you, Mercedes?” 

Mercedes laughed softly. “Well, who knows? And you, Sylvain?”

Sylvain froze. He knew this was her attempt at hinting toward being truthful with Felix about his feelings. Suddenly he wished he hadn’t sobered up so quickly. “Nope. Single as they come.”

After that, conversation lapsed back into an assortment of random topics. Sylvain glanced at the time and found it to be nearly 10 p.m. 

“Did you want to head out now?” Sylvain asked once he turned to face Felix. “Before it gets too late.”

Felix nodded and downed the last of his water. “Sounds good to me.”

Sylvain stretched in place before standing. He and Felix made their way around the table, saying their goodbyes as they did. Mercedes tugged on Sylvain’s sleeve, asking for a moment alone. With a nod, Felix agreed to meet him at the car. 

Sylvain allowed himself to be pulled off to the side to a more secluded area of the bar. 

“Sylvain, I hope I didn’t come off as too pushy,” Mercedes said gently, worry clear in her eyes. Her brows knitted together as she let her hands fall to her side. “I just think the two of you complement each other perfectly, and it would be great if something more could come of what you guys already have. I think I’ve seen you give more genuine smiles around him than I’ve seen you smile with others in general.”

Out of habit, Sylvain rubbed the back of his neck with a hand. He hesitantly met her eyes. “Yeah, something like that. I feel like I can be myself around him with no reservations. Which you know is a pretty big deal.” 

Mercedes nodded sympathetically. She had been one of the very few people he was able to confide in about his personal life in the past. 

“I just don’t know,” Sylvain muttered, attention falling to the ground. “My life has always been the same excruciatingly boring routine. Do I deserve someone like him strolling in and actually making things so much brighter?”

The question was rhetorical, but Mercedes vehemently shook her head. “Nonsense! You deserve happiness, Sylvain. I truly believe that from the bottom of my heart. And if he makes you happy, then there is nothing wrong with pursuing him.” Her voice turned gentle. “I’ll support you through anything, okay? Whether you decide to take things further with him or not. I’ll be here.”

Somehow she always knew the right things to say to make him feel better. Sylvain pulled her in for a hug. “Thank you, Mercie.” 

She returned his hug with vigor. “Of course, Sylvain.” 

Once they parted, Sylvain waved over his shoulder and headed out into the cold night. He felt a lot better in general about his feelings for Felix. He still wasn’t sure if he would act on them, but he could at least take in an odd sense of comfort from them. 

Felix was leaning back against the passenger door, arms hugging close to his body as he scrolled through his phone. Sylvain felt a pang of guilt for leaving him out in the cold. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” Sylvain said by way of announcement, chuckling to himself when Felix jumped slightly, surprised. “Mercie just had to ask me a couple things.”

“Let’s stop in front of my apartment first, so I can run in and grab my violin,” Felix said as they stepped into the car. 

“Alright, let’s go,” Sylvain said, smile never leaving his lips. Before, Felix would have rather walked himself the entire way home instead of asking Sylvain to make a stop for him, no matter how close or out of the way it was. Seemed like Felix was growing even more comfortable with him, and that thought alone was enough to warm him in the midst of such a chilly night. 

Their trip home was quick. Felix had hopped out of the car, run in to get his violin, and made it back within a couple minutes. Sylvain’s body thrummed with excitement as they made their way into his apartment. He never thought Felix would agree to such a simple request as playing each other’s instruments. 

They set their outer jackets on a chair by the dining room table and made their way to the living room. Sylvain brought out the folding chairs he used when he practiced alone, offering one to Felix as he set his own down and grabbed his cello case from the corner of the room. He disappeared into his bedroom for a moment to grab the music stands that he was suddenly grateful past-him had brought inside.

“Have you ever played violin before?” Felix asked as he attached the shoulder rest and tightened his bow. 

Sylvain hummed as he tightened his bow as well. He then fastened a floor strap to Felix’s chair to ensure the cello wouldn’t slide down and crash against the hardwood flooring. “I have, but it’s been a long time. When I played in high school, we’d mess around before concerts and swap instruments. It was a distraction that helped a lot of the nervous kids - a way to have a little bit of fun before a concert. But since then? Nah, I don’t think I have.”

“I wonder how bad you’ll be,” Felix commented with a smirk. 

Sylvain scoffed. “You’re on. I’d like to see how well you do with an instrument four times the size of your baby instrument. Not to mention we play in different clefs.” 

Felix waved him off. “Bass clef is nothing. Please.” 

Sylvain stared at him open-mouthed. “So you’re telling me you can just  _ read _ an entirely different clef? One that you never play in?”

“Maybe I can, maybe I can’t,” Felix commented vaguely. He held out his violin and bow to Sylvain. “Where’s your music?”

Sylvain took them and gestured toward his cello case. “Inside pocket at the bottom.” 

Something about this whole setup made Sylvain feel a childish sense of giddiness. He grabbed the violin sheet music off Felix’s stand and placed it on his own. 

Sylvain’s living room really wasn’t big enough for what they were doing, but he was determined to make it work. He pushed his couch as far back as it would go and did the same with the coffee table soon after. He adjusted their seats and music stands so that they were at an angle. Not quite facing each other, but not quite sitting side by side. Somewhere in between. 

Felix returned soon after with the music from Sylvain’s case and neatly set it on his stand. He picked the cello up from where it lay on the floor beside him and placed the endpin inside the loop of the floor strap. 

“Um,” Felix said with a cough when the cello was too high up. 

  
Sylvain glanced up from where he was admiring Felix’s violin and chuckled. “Here,” he said as he moved to kneel by Felix’s chair, loosening the endpin adjustment so Felix could bring the cello down to a comfortable height. Once adjusted properly, Sylvain took his seat again, glancing over the music. 

“Listen,” Sylvain began as he squinted at the sheet. “I’m a cellist. I can’t read this treble clef business. I mean, I  _ can _ , but it’s gonna take me about 400 years to get it.”

“Sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” Felix said with a snort. “I’ll go first, then.”

Sylvain sat in eager silence as Felix picked up the bow, drawing the fingers of his left hand up toward the strings by his ear. He drummed his fingers along the strings to get used to the feeling and nodded his head. 

After a couple moments, Felix drew the bow across the strings softly, almost hesitantly. For all the big talk he was giving before, his playing was much more calm and unsure. Sylvain could see Felix’s mind working in overdrive as he struggled to adjust to the inverse orientation of the cello. Instead of the bridge and the bow being close to his face, they were now closer to the floor. Sylvain bit back a laugh as Felix’s brows scrunched together, lips set in frustrated determination as he made his way through the first few bars of the piece. 

“Shit,” Felix groaned, exasperated as he set the bow on the music stand. “Okay this is a lot harder than I thought.”

Sylvain allowed a laugh to escape this time. “See? It’s not easy.”

Felix crossed his arms over the cello. “Well let’s see how  _ you _ do, then.”

“As you wish,” Sylvain commented, sending another wink Felix’s way. 

Sylvain tucked the violin comfortably under his chin and brought the bow up to hover above the strings. He tried not to think about how utterly unacceptable his posture must have looked and instead focused on trying to play. One glance at the sheet music was enough to already give up on it. Sylvain decided to play whatever came to mind. 

His first song of choice was Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. A classic. Felix simply rolled his eyes and critiqued his lack of vibrato and lack of variation. 

“I’m just trying to stick to the original!” Sylvain defended as he held the violin closer to himself. 

“Please, I could have played it exactly like that when I was 4 years old,” Felix countered, clearly stifling a smile. Sylvain wanted to do anything possible to bring that smile out. “At least I actually attempted to read the music.”

Sylvain snorted and used his bow to point at his music stand. “What even  _ is _ treble clef? Look at this! I can’t read this.”

This time, Felix didn’t hold back the smile tugging at his lips. “Coward.”

Sylvain’s heart stuttered for a moment as Felix looked into his eyes, a smile brightening his features. He returned the smile. “Yeah, maybe I am.”

“Hey, Sylvain,” Felix said as he set the cello on its side beside him. His tone held an air of uncertainty; something that made the smile on Sylvain’s lips falter slightly.

“What’s up?”

“What did you mean earlier when you said you were distracted during the concert? Or your mind was somewhere else?” Felix inquired, leaning back against the chair as he crossed his arms over his chest. “It doesn’t seem like you to get distracted by something to the point where it affects your playing.”

Sylvain rested the violin in his lap and leaned back. There were a couple routes he could go with this; he could lie and say it was nothing, or he could come clean about the real reason he was distracted. It couldn’t hurt to tell the truth anyway. It wasn’t like Sylvain ever held back from praising Felix’s playing before.

“I’ve never been so intrigued by someone’s playing before,” Sylvain started, holding Felix’s gaze. “Something about the way you play is mesmerizing. I can’t explain what that feeling is, but it’s just...amazing. It’s like I get the breath knocked out of me every time you play something. Your bow movements are so smooth and steady; your shifting and hand positions are done with purpose.” Sylvain shrugged. “That could just be me being biased, though. But seriously, I can’t...put into words how much your playing gets to me. Your solo was the one thing that stood out so bright during the entire performance. Damn near missed my cue because of it.” 

Felix’s face was clouded with a mix of emotions: shock, embarrassment, a little anger for whatever reason, and...happiness? 

“That...can’t be true,” Felix finally said after regaining the ability to speak. “My playing isn’t nearly that good.”

“It is to me,” Sylvain replied softly, a somewhat sad smile forming. “I haven’t told you this, but the reason I’ve actually been enjoying playing cello again is because of you. I look forward to the practice sessions we have, the rehearsals as an ensemble. I just look forward to spending time with  _ you _ .” 

That last sentence wasn’t supposed to make it past his lips, but it was too late to take it back. Felix flushed a deep crimson, dropping his gaze to the ground. 

“Sorry, I might have gotten a little carried away,” Sylvain mended, coughing lightly as he attempted to backpedal. The atmosphere around them changed into something Sylvain couldn’t entirely read, and he didn’t know how to deal with it. Should he laugh it off? Continue with his sincerity? Pretend it never happened?

“I feel the same.”

The words were quiet - so quiet Sylvain could have convinced himself they were never truly spoken if he thought long enough about it. 

Unsure of how to respond, Sylvain waited for Felix to continue. 

“At first it was just the way you played cello that caught my attention,” Felix admitted, fingers running lightly over the cello beside him. “Then I realized I truly enjoyed myself when I played with you. We play well together. And s-spending time with you is nice, too.”

Sylvain didn’t think Felix’s face could get any redder.

He was blissfully wrong. 

“It’s now or never,” Felix whispered out loud, seemingly more to himself than Sylvain. 

Before Sylvain could even ask any questions, Felix was out of his seat and charging toward him with a fierce determination in his eyes. Once standing before Sylvain’s still-seated figure, he reached down and lifted Sylvain’s chin with a finger. Sylvain’s heart sped in his chest, beating up a storm against his ribcage and pounding in his ears. 

Felix leaned in until his lips were centimeters from Sylvain’s, allowing him the chance to back out if he so desired. Overcome with emotion, Sylvain allowed his eyes to fall shut, and he closed the distance between their lips. Felix’s lips were soft and pliant against his own, tasting just barely of strawberry lip balm. Their kiss was agonizingly short, but somehow Sylvain still felt breathless as Felix pulled back. He wasn’t sure when he had bunched the material of Felix’s turtleneck in his fists, but he apologetically let go and released a nervous laugh. 

“What’s funny?” Felix whispered, raising a brow. 

“Just can’t believe you felt the same way as me in  _ that _ sense, too,” Sylvain said, that nervous laughter giving way to a bright smile. 

“How could I not?” Felix asked, rolling his eyes playfully. 

Sylvain pulled Felix onto his lap with more force than he intended, resulting in the whimsy folding chair collapsing beneath them and sending them crashing into the ground. 

“Ow,” Sylvain complained with a wince when the back of his head hit the floor. 

Felix, who had tumbled onto his chest during the process, shook his head. “You dumbass. What were you thinking?”

Sylvain opened his mouth to defend himself but found the words caught in his throat when Felix started laughing. Like  _ genuinely _ laughing. There were plenty of times before where he had heard Felix laugh, and though he loved the sound each time, there was something particularly special about it this time around. It was adorable the way Felix covered his mouth with the back of his hand as the laughter flowed freely, the corners of his eyes scrunching up and his features brightening. That was surely a moment that would be etched into Sylvain’s memory for a very long time - or at least he hoped so. He was only able to snap out of his stupor when Felix rolled off of him and held out a hand. 

Still somewhat dazed, Sylvain accepted the help and allowed himself to be pulled up into a sitting position. Felix’s hand came up to cradle the back of his head, gently massaging the place where he made impact with the hard floor. Sylvain winced again as Felix’s touch sent small sparks of pain shooting out from the area. 

“Wait here,” Felix instructed. He disappeared into the kitchen area and returned after a couple minutes of aimlessly looking for the items he needed. When he returned, he held a resealable bag filled with ice in one hand and a washcloth in the other. 

Felix motioned for Sylvain to stand and follow him to the couch. As they lowered themselves onto the cushions, Felix wrapped the washcloth around the plastic bag and gingerly pressed it against the area of impact. 

“Here?” Felix asked, one hand unconsciously coming to rest on Sylvain’s forearm. Great, now he had two areas that seemed to be shooting sparks for two completely different reasons. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” Sylvain said with a contented sigh, the coldness of the ice bringing some sense of relief from the pounding in his head. 

No more than a couple minutes had passed before the new melody from before started up in his mind again. Sylvain jumped up from his spot on the couch, willfully ignoring the dull throbbing radiating from the back of his head as he hurried over to Felix’s unoccupied chair. Quickly, he pulled his phone out to start a voice recording before hauling his cello up from where it lay beside him. There was almost a comical sense of shock showing on Felix’s face, and Sylvain laughed. “Song motivation,” he said simply, trying to keep a majority of his focus on the soothing melody nearly on the tips of his fingers. 

After some minor adjustments to the length of the endpin, Sylvain finally took the bow in his right hand and allowed his mind to take over. Attention focused on the strings underneath his left hand, Sylvain listened with rapture as the building melody finally came together. It was slow and meaningful, and he couldn’t remember a time he had felt so caught up in his own playing. The more he played, the more he realized the song was turning into a representation of his feelings for Felix - of the way their relationship had developed over time. 

The beginning was more upbeat and lively, unrelenting in its strong and steadfast series of notes. It represented their first meeting and the way both Felix’s personality and his playing had struck him in a way he’d never felt before. 

As he neared the middle, the melody slowed and softened almost timid-seeming. It represented the period of uncertainty where Sylvain was trying, unsuccessfully, to categorize his unidentified feelings for Felix. It was a short period of confusion before the truth finally came to him. 

The song continued on to a healthy pace, the notes carrying more of a feeling of happiness and wonder. The harmonization he achieved between the two strings he played at once reverberated through his small apartment living room, symbolizing his complementary connection with Felix. As the last note faded into the night, Sylvain took a moment to himself, breathing coming heavier than it was before. 

When Sylvain finally came back to himself, he stopped the recording and saved it before stuffing his phone back into his pocket. 

“How was that?” Sylvain asked with a grin as he turned to face Felix. To his complete and utter surprise, Felix was staring wide-eyed at him, eyes filled to the brim with what could only be tears. “Felix?” Sylvain asked, alarmed. He set his cello down with haste and moved to sit beside Felix on the couch, one hand coming up to cup Felix’s cheek and force their eyes to meet. 

Felix shook his head, a breathless laugh escaping him. He waved off Sylvain’s worry, cheeks flushing as he broke eye contact. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Sylvain frowned, thumb stroking Felix’s cheek gently. “Then why were you…?”

With an amused laugh, Felix’s eyes met his again. “Like I said earlier: your playing was one of the first things that caught my attention about you. Not much has changed since.”

This time, Sylvain felt his face heat. He’d been complimented many times before on how well he played, but it never felt as genuine as Felix’s words. Felix’s words held an air of sincerity that Sylvain couldn’t ignore even if he tried. 

“Look who’s blushing now,” Felix muttered softly, reaching up to curl his fingers around Sylvain’s wrist. He turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss against the center of Sylvain’s palm, and the feeling sent a shiver down his spine. Sylvain could only sit stunned silent, face hot, his heart and mind in a frenzy. “I’ve gotta say,” Felix whispered into his palm, eyes never leaving his own. “Leaving you speechless shouldn’t be this much fun.”

When Felix’s gaze dropped to his lips, Sylvain finally shook the haze in his mind. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Felix’s, reveling in the small noise it elicited from him. Felix leaned into the kiss, hands sliding up Sylvain’s chest and clasping at the base of his neck. With one hand still cradling Felix’s face, Sylvain allowed the other to wander lower, resting on Felix’s waist. He squeezed gently as the kiss deepened, smiling against Felix’s lips when that elicited a surprised gasp. 

Felix’s tongue brushed against his bottom lip, and Sylvain felt all rational thought disperse. He parted his lips, inviting Felix in, groaning when their tongues met and slid against one another’s. The kiss held no trace of shyness or uncertainty, and Sylvain was sure he was going to melt on the spot. At some point during the kiss, Sylvain had ended up with a lap full of Felix, hands gripping his hips as Felix cradled his face with both hands. 

Sylvain reluctantly pulled back when he went dizzy from lack of oxygen. Felix rested his forehead against Sylvain’s, and they just sat there together, taking in each other’s thoroughly-kissed appearances as they caught their breath. The only thing that came close to feeling as wonderful as kissing Felix was playing alongside him. 

“God, you’re amazing,” Sylvain whispered, thumbs rubbing comforting circles on Felix’s waist. 

Felix leaned back to sit against Sylvain’s thighs, letting his hands fall to Sylvain’s shoulders. “Shut up. I could say the same.”

With a sigh, Felix checked the time on his phone and grimaced. “As much as I’d like to stay, it’s almost two in the morning, and I’ve got work in the morning.”

Sylvain’s expression must have fallen because Felix reached out with a small smile and brushed Sylvain’s bangs to the side affectionately. “Don’t make that face. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

An overwhelming sense of relief washed over Sylvain once he realized this wasn’t just a one time thing. Felix still wanted to see him. He grinned and placed his hand over Felix’s, lacing their fingers together. “Yup, I’ll be here.”

They untangled themselves from one another and moved about, trying to get the living room looking the way it did before. Once both instruments were packed away and Felix stood by the front door with his violin in hand, he turned to meet Sylvain’s eyes with a serious expression. “That song...you should finish it. Not in a pressuring way, but just...I don’t know how to explain it. It would just be really nice if you finished it. I’d like to hear how it properly ends.”

Sylvain smiled wide and leaned against the doorframe, the cool night air biting at both of them as a breeze passed through. “Motivation to finish a song? I thought I’d never see the day.”

Felix rolled his eyes again. Before he turned to leave, he leaned up and placed a chaste kiss to Sylvain’s lips, and it was all Sylvain had not to pull Felix back into his apartment and kiss him senseless. Warmth radiated from where their lips met, and Sylvain leaned in for one final kiss. 

“Text me when you get in safe?” Sylvain asked, already feeling the effects of the lack of Felix’s presence.

“I live directly across the street,” Felix duly reminded him. “I’ll be fine.”

Sylvain opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by Felix’s soft smile, a sight that caused his heart to beat just a little bit faster.

“Alright, alright. I’ll text you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!! i love these idiots 
> 
> i'm on twitter as [@sylvainjpg](https://twitter.com/sylvainjpg) if you'd like to join me in yelling about fe3h related things!!


	3. mosso

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it! is! done! 
> 
> sorry it took so long to get this up nfdlskf but i'm really happy with how this turned out as a whole ahhh!!! this chapter is about 9.5k words which was not expected at all omg. but sometimes you just start writing and it gets out of hand ya know? as you can see there has been a rating change as well as tag update so yeah!!!
> 
> please enjoy :3c (ps none of this was beta read so i'm sorry in advance if anything is misspelled/etc)

January brought with it chilling winds and flurries of snow that finally began sticking to the ground. As the morning sun defiantly peeked through a thick layer of storm clouds, Sylvain rolled over onto his back in bed and stretched. Squinting one eye open, Sylvain cursed the blackout curtains he had purchased some time ago. They were horrible at their job - may as well have been sheer curtains, inviting the sunlight in with open arms. 

Though waking so early on a Sunday morning was something generally very unappealing to Sylvain, he decided to take advantage of the extra time. 

Something he had discovered not too long ago was that Bernadetta composed her own music. And she was  _ damn _ good at it. 

It really was a complete accident, him finding out. At the time, they were all at a nearby theater readying themselves for another day of rehearsal, and Bernadetta just happened to leave her music on her stand as she went off to ask Mercedes something. At first glance, Sylvain realized the music she left on her stand wasn’t the music they were going to be practicing. In fact, it didn’t look like any music Sylvain had ever seen before. As luck would have it, the second chair violist just so happened to snap her folder shut hard enough for the resulting wind to knock Bernadetta’s music off her stand and onto the floor by Sylvain’s feet. 

Being the good friend he was, of course, he picked the music up and carefully looked it over. It was an upbeat song with a quick tempo - an overall lighthearted composition. Sylvain could hear the song in his head as he read through it, mentally commending Bernadetta for her work. Her name was scribbled up toward the top where the composer’s name would usually be found with a small flower surrounded by a few music notes resting in the margin between her name and the edge of the paper. 

All was going well until Bernadetta returned to her seat right as Sylvain was placing the music back on her stand. Stricken with embarrassment, she had unintentionally crumpled the papers in her hand and shoved them in her bag, pointedly ignoring Sylvain for the rest of the day. 

He had apologized to her later on and was thankful when she had graciously accepted. 

Now, however, he had a new issue to bring up with her.

Sylvain wanted Bernadetta to read over what he had composed of his song and offer any advice or critiques she may have. Though he had no goal at first with the song, he now wanted to tweak it and have it finished in time for Felix’s birthday. He had never composed a song before with the intention of... _ gifting _ it to another, but Felix made him want to do and achieve things he had never given a second thought to before. 

With a tentative plan set up in mind, Sylvain pulled his phone off its charger on his nightstand and dialed Bernadetta’s number. It may not seem like it, but she tended to be an early riser. 

_ “Hello?” _ Bernadetta answered timidly after a couple of rings.  _ “Sylvain?” _

“Bernie!” Sylvain replied, grinning wide though she couldn’t see it. “How are you this fine Sunday morning?”

Some hesitation came from the other end.  _ “I’m...fine. D-Did you need anything?” _

“Actually yes,” Sylvain said, sitting up straight in bed as some of the sleepiness began to clear from his thoughts. “Would you mind meeting me for coffee this morning? I just had something I wanted to ask you about.”

_ “...Ah. Sure,” _ Bernadetta spoke quietly into the receiver.  _ “Starbucks by our rehearsal theater in...an hour?” _

“Sounds great,” Sylvain agreed. “See you then, Bernie. Thanks for agreeing!”

She squeaked a soft  _ “You’re welcome!” _ before promptly hanging up. 

The fact that she agreed to meet him was a testament to how close they had become during their time in the symphony together. Before she would hardly spare a glance his way, and now, she complied with his attempts to make conversation. Sometimes it was still awkward, but Sylvain didn’t mind. He knew she was trying her best. 

Sylvain yawned and sent a quick morning text to Felix before hopping out of bed to begin his daily routine. He wasn’t expecting a reply from Felix for at least a couple hours. Felix rose fairly early as well, but 7 a.m. was a little too early even for him. 

Sylvain took his time in the shower, contemplating exactly what he wanted to ask from Bernadetta as he conditioned his hair. Did he want to change the song entirely? With Felix’s birthday being the 20th of February, he only had about a month to perfect it, so perhaps starting over from scratch wasn’t a wise idea. The song itself had a solid backbone, so there was a chance he could keep the main parts of it the same and just work around it from there. When the steam from the shower became overpowering enough to make him feel sleepy again, he hopped out and dried off, taking care to wash his face and brush his teeth after. 

Once fully dressed, Sylvain grabbed his keys off the counter and headed down to his car. The drive to the coffee shop wasn’t terribly long - only long enough for a couple songs on his driving playlist to finish. That was another one of Felix’s many influences. Before, Sylvain preferred to sit in silence as he drove, unable to really connect with music even just as background noise. There just wasn’t much appeal to him before. That was, until one night when Felix came over with a loaded Spotify playlist and a mini speaker. Felix had shown him as much as he could of his favorite playlist, and Sylvain was ecstatic to hear more. He had since added all of Felix’s favorite songs to a playlist of his own and listened to it regularly. It was interesting hearing the kind of music that struck a chord in Felix. 

Sylvain found himself whistling the melody of the last song that was playing as he turned his car off and stepped out, surprised at the lack of usual cars scattered in the parking lot. Maybe being awake so early had its perks. Not that Sylvain was keen on intentionally waking up early from then on. 

A particularly strong gust of wind sent a shiver down his spine, and he pulled his coat tighter around him as he made his way to the entrance. One of the baristas greeted him cheerfully as he stepped in. He offered a smile and a nod as he scanned the room, eyes eventually settling on that signature vivid purple hair. Bernadetta was occupying a chair facing the window, so she hadn’t yet seen him. 

Sylvain chuckled to himself and approached the register to place his order. He wasn’t much of a coffee person generally, but he figured his early rising would be hitting him fairly hard in an hour or two. The friendly baristas made conversation with him, lightly joking about his choice of an iced coffee in the middle of winter. 

With a gracious  _ thank you, _ Sylvain grabbed his drink and walked over to Bernadetta, taking the seat right across from her. 

“Morning!” he greeted, watching with a grin as her eyes widened in shock. 

“You could have warned me you were already here!” Bernadetta scolded quietly under her breath. She grumbled something unintelligible into what Sylvain assumed was hot chocolate or hot tea. Bernadetta detested the bitterness of coffee. 

“Sorry,” Sylvain apologized with no true meaning, a grin in his voice. “So, how’s your morning been, Bernie?”

“It’s been alright,” Bernadetta responded, eyeing Sylvain over the lip of her cup. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Sylvain sipped his coffee, noting the bitterness was a little more apparent that morning. “Well...it’s more of a request, really. Please hear me out!”

Bernadetta sighed and set her cup on the table. “Okay, let’s hear it, Sylvain.”

He grinned wide. “Thank you. So...I know you compose self-made music. And it’s absolutely  _ incredible. _ Seriously, Bernie, you’re a genius composer. When I, uh, accidentally read over your half-finished piece that one time, I was shocked. It seemed like something someone working in this industry for decades had written.” She flushed a deep, crimson red but thankfully allowed him to continue. “I would like to request your talents. Almost like a commission, if you will.”

That seemed to pique her interest. “What? How so?”

“Felix’s birthday is coming up,” Sylvain began, “and I really want to finish this piece I have in mind to, ah, gift to him. I have a majority of it finished already, but there’s just something that’s  _ missing.  _ I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out what it is, but I haven’t been able to come up with anything. I’d like it if you could help me finish the song. You know, guide me through what you think would sound best, tell me to rewrite parts if they sound shitty. Stuff like that.”

Bernadetta stared open-mouthed at him. “I think you’re taking me for a professional, Sylvain! I’m not  _ that _ good,” she opposed, redness never fading from her cheeks. “I just write things that make me happy. Things that  _ you _ were never supposed to see to begin with.” She huffed and took another sip of her drink.

Her words weren’t sharp enough to indicate she was truly angry, and Sylvain fought off a laugh. “I apologized for that! But seriously, Bernie, will you consider it? I’d really love to have your insight on this.”

Bernadetta crossed her arms over her chest and looked him over, falling victim to that signature pout of Sylvain’s. “Alright, fine. But I won’t accept your money! Just food every now and then will be fine.”

Sylvain’s heart soared at her agreement. “Really? Thank you so much, Bernie!! You’re saving my life here - I mean that.”

She immediately waved off his eager compliments, face flushing again. “When should we meet up for this?”

Sylvain couldn’t shake the smile on his face. “When are you usually free?”

Bernadetta hummed. “Around this time, usually. The only thing I really do in the mornings is make sure the plants in my garden are watered. After that, I’ve usually got some free time until either school or symphony rehearsal.”

“Then we could meet early mornings?” Sylvain suggested. It would pain him for a short while, but it would be worth it in the end. “Maybe like once a week.”

Across from him, Bernadetta gave a small smile and nodded in agreement. “Sounds like a plan, then. I think Felix will love it no matter what.”

Sylvain chuckled and scratched the back of his head. “I sure hope so. He was with me when I first began composing it, but I've changed quite a few things since.”

Their tentative plan brought Sylvain a greater sense of confidence. He was confident in his own abilities, of course, but allowing himself to rely on another for his own creation was something both frightening and relieving. Though he was unsure of what the final product would be, the prospect of working with Bernadetta on this project was actually exciting to him. The original pieces he had created before were ones born of obligation and nothing more. 

Unwilling to have his thoughts head down that dark road, Sylvain forced them away from the forefront of his mind, focusing only on the things Bernadetta was telling him. 

The rest of their short meeting passed amicably. Bernadetta opened up to him a little more about herself and her experiences writing, and Sylvain listened with intent. 

With plans to meet the next morning, they parted ways. 

Sylvain’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he grinned knowing it could only be Felix finally waking and responding to his message. 

* * *

The following morning, Sylvain had sleepily driven himself to the meeting place he and Bernadetta had agreed on: an unoccupied music room on one of the college campuses in town. The music professors were always there absurdly early and allowed the music rooms to be used on a first-come first-serve basis. 

By the time Sylvain reached the room, Bernadetta was already there, scrolling through her phone from her spot on one of the folding chairs. 

She glanced up as he walked in and smiled. “Morning.”

Sylvain yawned and ran a hand through his hair as he gently dropped his cello case onto the ground. “Mornin’.”   
  
“You’re not much of a morning person, are you?” Bernadetta asked, amused by repeated yawns Sylvain couldn’t restrain. 

“Yeah, you could say that,” he responded with a snort. “I don’t know how the hell people can willingly be awake at 7 a.m. No offense.”

Bernadetta giggled and pulled a notebook out of her bag as Sylvain set up. “None taken. I actually prefer being awake this early.”

Sylvain muttered something about that notion being incredulous as he finally put the last of his pages on the music stand. “Wanna take a look through it first?”

Bernadetta shook her head. “I’d like to hear you play it first.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sylvain replied, sitting up straight in his chair as he held his bow up to his strings and glanced over his messily written sheet music. An unfamiliar sense of nervousness began creeping in, but he attempted to shake it off. 

Bernadetta listened with the utmost intent while Sylvain essentially poured his heart out through his music. It took some adjusting before Bernadetta felt comfortable with pointing out Sylvain’s flaws or offering suggestions of her own, but they eventually fell into a routine. Though Bernadetta didn’t know Felix that well aside from what she had experienced herself in rehearsal, she used the insight Sylvain gave her to attempt to tailor the song to something that she felt encompassed them as two separate people and together as a couple. 

A couple hours passed quicker than Sylvain had anticipated. The song needed quite a bit of work, but with Bernadetta’s help, he was sure it would be completed in time for Felix’s birthday.

* * *

During the next few weeks or so, Sylvain found that he and Bernadetta worked really well together when it came to music. She guided him in the right directions, and he listened openly, finding the best possible ways to weave her suggestions in with what he already had. 

Sylvain briefly considered co-creating a cello duet with Bernadetta someday.

A thought like that had never crossed his mind before he met Felix and began to open himself up to music again. Felix really had changed his perspective for the better. 

* * *

The final meeting between Sylvain and Bernadetta was the day before Felix’s birthday. With his laptop out on the chair beside him, Sylvain released a long sigh of relief as he made the last few changes to his song on an online score creator. He looked it over for the nth time, ensuring tempo, key signature, time signature and other elements were appropriate. 

Bernadetta looked over at him from her chair, clutching dearly the stuffed teddy bear Sylvain had gifted her for her last day of help. She wouldn’t accept any form of payment other than food or stuffed animals, so Sylvain did the best he could with what he could find. 

Sylvain smiled giddily as he packed away his cello, making a mental note to clean the excess rosin from his strings later that night. During each of their meetings, Bernadetta had been endlessly patient with him, allowing him time to figure out a change on his own and helping him work through new fragments of the song when her initial suggestions didn’t quite fit right. Overcome with gratitude, Sylvain crossed the small practice room and pulled Bernadetta in for a tight hug. 

“Sylvain!” Bernadetta squealed, shocked at first but eventually returning the hug. 

“Thank you, Bernie. Seriously, thank you so much!” 

When Sylvain felt he had adequately poured his feelings into the hug, he stepped back and reached for his cello.

“It really wasn’t that big of a deal,” Bernadetta mumbled through reddened cheeks as they made their way out to the parking lot together. 

“It may not have seemed like much, but it really was. At least to me,” Sylvain sighed. “This is the first time I’ve ever written anything that I’ve felt remotely attached to. It’s a weird feeling - a  _ new _ feeling. But one that I like a lot.”

Bernadetta swung the stuffed teddy bear at her side as they walked, smiling wide. “Sylvain, you’ve got a real talent for writing! I think you should explore it a little more. If you want, anyway. I think you’d find some real joy in it if you gave it a shot.”

Sylvain chuckled, pulling his keys out of his pocket to unlock his car as he approached it. “You know what? Maybe I will. Maybe this will be the year.”

With a laugh, Bernadetta veered off in the direction of her car a few spaces down. “Let me know if you need help again!”

“You’ll be the first to know!” Sylvain called back, a smile lingering on his lips as he settled himself comfortably in the driver’s seat. From what he could tell, Felix was mostly unsuspecting of his secret journey to perfect his song. Felix would ask questions when Sylvain had suddenly stopped composing when he was around, but Sylvain had mustered up some excuse about needing some time away from it to help the ideas flow. Or something like that. 

A few weeks prior when they were laying together in Sylvain’s bed, Sylvain reading a book and Felix scrolling through various social media, Sylvian had asked if Felix could keep the evening of his birthday open. Felix had mumbled an agreement and scooted adorably closer to Sylvain. 

Part of Sylvain was nervous for what his boyfriend’s reaction would be, but for the most part he was genuinely excited to see how he would react. As a musician himself, Felix would understand all the time and effort that went into creating the piece. He may even offer to alter some parts of it, which Sylvain was more than okay with. He wanted everything about that song to embody as much of Felix as it did himself. 

A tentative plan formed in Sylvain’s mind as he went about the rest of his day. When he arrived home, he decided on a thorough cleaning of his cello while he talked to Felix on speaker. There was a hint of frustration in Felix’s voice as he mentioned the fact that the next day would be the first time he had seen Sylvain in person in over a week. Since their next performance as a symphony was a while off, their rehearsals were more spaced out, allowing them all adequate time to practice on their own. Felix was busy with his own practices and other obligations, so the chance to actually spend time together had been scarce. 

“Hey,” Sylvain said into the receiver with a yawn. “I know we didn’t get to talk for too long, but I’m gonna head to sleep now.”

He could practically hear Felix’s eyebrows raise.  _ “You never go to bed this early. It’s only 10 p.m.” _

Sylvain gave a soft chuckle. “Yeah, let’s just say I woke up really early to work on your birthday present for tomorrow. You’d better appreciate it!”

A pause.  _ “...You really didn’t have to buy me anything,” _ Felix replied, almost sheepish sounding. 

That pulled a laugh from Sylvain. “Babe, I did buy you a couple things, but this? I spent zero dollars on this. Kind of. Just you wait.”

_ “You’re too much, Syl,” _ Felix spoke, a smile seeping into his tone.  _ “I really can’t wait to see you, though. I...miss you.” _

Sylvain’s heart skipped a beat or two. God did he miss Felix more. “I miss you, too. So much. But hey! We’ll get to see each other tomorrow, yeah?” 

_ “Yeah, yeah,” _ Felix grumbled back. Movement sounded from the other end, and he could only assume Felix was getting comfortable in bed.  _ “I know we said 5, but I’m coming over earlier. 5 is too late.” _

Sylvain grinned, huffing out a soft laugh as he left his things in the living room and plopped onto his mattress. “Come over whenever, Fe. You know I’ll be here.”

_ “Hey….” _

There was some hesitance in Felix’s tone which immediately put Sylvain on alert. “What’s wrong?”

_ “I...ah, fuck,” _ Felix cursed, voice muffled as though he had covered his face with a pillow or something. 

“Felix?” Sylvain prompted, settling against his pillows as he pulled the covers over himself. 

_ “I really wanted to wait to say this, but I don’t think I can,” _ Felix admitted so softly Sylvain could barely hear. 

“Admit what, Fe?” Sylvain asked, tone light and trusting. The fact that he had no idea what brought on this sudden confession of... _ whatever _ from Felix sent his heart into a frenzy. 

_ “It’s just...you…!” _

Sylvain chuckled into the receiver as he reached over to turn off his bedside lamp. “Me…?”

_ “Sylvain,” _ Felix whispered, voice a little shaky.  _ “I...love you. A lot. I just needed you to hear that.” _

No sooner had Sylvain opened his mouth to respond had Felix immediately hung up the phone. Heart racing, Sylvain laughed uncontrollably and frantically dialed Felix back. It rang twice before Felix answered again.

_ “What?” _

“You didn’t even let me respond!” Sylvain admonished with another series of giggles. “Felix….” He waited for his sudden rush of laughter to die down, leaving only a smile on his face. “I love you, too.”

_ “...Sap,” _ Felix whispered into the receiver, and Sylvain could just picture him buried as far underneath his blanket as physically allowed, face and neck the most beautiful shade of scarlet to ever exist. 

“I don’t think I need to remind you that you said it first,” Sylvain shot back lightly, a yawn escaping him as he sunk further down into his pillows, sleep blissfully around the corner. 

_ “Go to bed, Syl. I’ll see you tomorrow.” _

“Mmm,” Sylvain hummed, consciousness already leaving him in waves. “‘Night, Fe. Love you. Happy early birthday.”

Sleep washed over him before he had a chance to hear Felix’s response. It was only one night’s rest separating him and the man he had fallen so hard for. 

* * *

Sunlight streaming in through the window prodded at Sylvain’s sleepy brain. It appeared the night before he forgot to close the left side of the curtain, so the sun in all its glory bathed his room in that familiar golden hue. Sylvain yawned once as tendrils of consciousness began breaking through his dreamscape. He felt around the bed for his phone as he peeked both eyes open, vaguely remembering that he forgot to put it on the charger before he fell asleep the night before. As the sleepiness began to fade more, Sylvain couldn’t quite place the feeling of  _ something is happening today _ running rampant in his veins, chasing away the last bits of tiredness. 

Oh. It was Felix’s birthday. 

Sylvain perked up at the reminder and dove into his covers for his phone, eventually finding it nestled somewhere underneath the mountain of pillows he slept with. He ignored the low battery warning and immediately dialed Felix’s number, grinning when Felix picked up on the third ring.

_ “What is it?”  _ Felix sleepily mumbled. Sylvain most likely woke him up. Oops. 

“Felix! Happy birthday. I just wanted to be the first to say it to you,” Sylvain proudly prattled off.

Felix chuckled, a bit of sleepiness still lurking in his voice.  _ “Well, you’re too late. Mercedes texted me at exactly midnight to wish me a Happy Birthday.” _

Sylvain waved though he knew Felix couldn’t see. “That doesn’t count. That’s by text.”

Felix sighed but laughed softly again after.  _ “It’s not a competition, dummy.” _

“Still,” Sylvain insisted, his smile growing fonder as he recalled Felix’s confession from the night before. “Anyway, I’m gonna start getting ready for the day. See you here later?”

_ “Mhm,” _ Felix agreed, a prolonged yawn following.  _ “I’ll be there around...2 p.m.?” _

“Sounds perfect to me,” Sylvain responded, absentmindedly scratching his bare abdomen. “See you soon, Fe.”

Once they hung up, Sylvain couldn’t help the excitement that started to build within him. Most of the late morning passed in a whirl of ensuring he had all the necessary materials waiting in his car so that he could take off with Felix smoothly when the time was right. 

Sylvain didn’t own a printer, so he had to go out to a nearby public library he frequented to print out his sheet music. While he was out, he decided to stop by one of those stores that did photo printing to get a recent picture of him and Felix together printed. He had been meaning to do that for a while now since he had a few extra picture frames lying about. The picture he chose was one that Ashe had taken of them candidly at a symphony afterparty one night. Felix had taken the glasses Sylvain always kept stashed in his pocket and was teasingly holding them behind his back, laughing wildly all the while Sylvain had one hand wrapped around his waist, the other reaching for the glasses as he marveled that beautiful laugh. 

By the time he made it back home, it was nearing 2 p.m.. Sylvain stashed the sheet music in a folder and slid it into his cello case already waiting in the trunk. With the picture in hand and a smile on his face, he made his way back up to his apartment. 

It only took a couple minutes of looking through random drawers before Sylvain found the extra frames he remembered bringing with him from home. He eventually settled on a simple gold frame that absolutely did not match anything in his living room, but he didn’t care. The fact that it would stand out enough to others to draw attention to itself was good enough for him. Then everyone could appreciate the photograph as much as he did. 

In his last few minutes of waiting, Sylvain changed into a simple white v-neck with a not-so-formal blazer with the sleeves rolled up thrown over it. He decided to stick with the pair of dark wash jeans he had already picked for the day, and nearly jumped in place when he heard a knock at his door. Confused, Sylvain pulled his phone from his back pocket. Felix always texted before he left his place. 

Alas, there was an unread message from Felix. Somewhere during Sylvain’s frantic running around, he had missed the text. 

It was hard to keep himself from running full speed from his bedroom to the living room door. Not that it was terribly far anyway. 

Sylvain opened the door, and there stood Felix in all his stunning glory. Hair combed back into its usual ponytail and a soft blue turtleneck hugging his figure from underneath a thick coat. The second Felix stepped through the door, Sylvain shut it and pressed Felix up against it, lips moving hungrily against Felix’s as though it had been years since their last kiss. It had certainly felt like it. 

Felix groaned and wrapped his arms around Sylvain’s neck, pulling him impossibly closer as Sylvain deepened the kiss, his heart flipping when Felix’s tongue found his. 

“Damn, I missed you,” Sylvain whispered as he pulled back, tracing his thumb along Felix’s jaw, savoring the sight of Felix’s thoroughly-kissed lips. 

A light blush tinged Felix’s cheeks as he cleared his throat, hands sliding down Sylvain’s chest. “I missed you, too.”

Sylvain pressed one final kiss to the corner of Felix’s mouth before pulling back and leading them to his living room. 

“So what did you want to show me?” Felix asked, curious and slightly impatient as he settled on the couch.

“You’ll have to wait and see,” Sylvain infuriatingly replied with a grin. “I originally wanted to show you around sunset, but it’s been really cold lately. I think we’ll head over in about an hour instead.”

Felix cocked a brow as Sylvain took a seat beside him on the couch. “Head  _ where?” _

“You’ll see,” Sylvain replied nonchalantly. 

They simply enjoyed one another’s company while they waited for time to pass, Sylvain’s hand somehow finding Felix’s during their conversation to lace their fingers together. Felix told him about the odd conversation he had with his father earlier in the day. Apparently his father had wished him well and apologized for always comparing him to his brother. Though Felix’s conversation with his father on the topic was short and awkward, it was still a giant leap forward. The fact that his father had recognized his fault and apologized for it? Sylvain supposed Felix moving away had its intended effect back home. 

When it came time for them to leave, Sylvain grabbed his coat and led them down to his car. There was just one more thing he needed. 

“Fe, you’re not gonna like this but - ”

Felix rolled his eyes and held a hand up to cut off Sylvain. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll keep my eyes closed on the way there. Promise.”

Sylvain chuckled and pressed a kiss to Felix’s forehead before stepping into the car. “You know me so well.”

Once they were both buckled in, Sylvain waved a hand in front of Felix’s face to ensure his eyes were closed. True to his word, Felix kept his eyes shut and didn’t flinch back at all.

Biting his lip nervously, Sylvain drove them the short distance it took to get to the park. They hadn’t been back since their first, well, date, and it struck something within Sylvain. He parked as close as he could to save himself the pain of walking back and forth a million times to retrieve his things from the car. 

“Okay,” Sylvain breathed as he turned the car off and unbuckled his seatbelt. “Keep your eyes closed, alright? I’ll guide you to where we’re going. Once I get you there, I’ve gotta come back and grab a couple things, but I’ll be right back. Just keep your eyes shut!”

Felix took off his seatbelt and waved dismissively at Sylvain. “Yeah, come on, I get it. Let’s go.”

Once out of the car, Sylvain wrapped an arm around Felix’s waist and guided him to the gazebo. Felix tripped over the first step and sent a closed-eyed glare toward Sylvain to which Sylvain snorted. 

“I told you there was a step there,” Sylvain chastised as Felix took a seat on one of the empty benches. His plan was contingent on there being nobody in the gazebo, and  _ luckily _ it was empty. Felix cracked a small smile, and Sylvain left him to grab his cello and music stand from his car. 

During the walk back, his palms grew slightly clammy with anticipation. He knew Felix would appreciate the song regardless of whether he thought it was good or not, but he still couldn’t shake the nerves. The afternoon light cast a soft glow around Felix, and though it shouldn’t have been possible to feel more love for that man than he already did, Sylvain’s heart squeezed. 

“Keep your eyes closed,” Sylvain reminded as he set up as inconspicuously as he could. The breeze wasn’t strong enough to drive them away, but it was just annoying enough to blow Sylvain’s pages off his music stand. Lucky for him, he always kept a transparent sheet of heavy plastic in his cello case for moments like these. He placed the plastic sheet over the pages of his music and applied a generous amount of rosin to his bow. 

With his heart in his throat, Sylvain took a deep breath to calm the trembling in his fingertips. 

“You can open your eyes now,” Sylvain said, cursing himself for the way his voice wavered. He had never been nervous to perform before, so what the hell was that?

Felix opened his eyes and was immediately taken aback. “This is the place we first played together….” 

Sylvain nodded. “Yup. And I actually, uh, have something I want to play for you.”

“What is it?” Felix asked, curiously looking over at the sheet music while Sylvain shrugged out of his coat. 

“No peeking!” Sylvain reprimanded, turning the stand so it faced him a little better. This angle gave him the chance to peek up at Felix while he played. Though he wasn’t sure how his heart would fare if he tried that. 

“Is that why you wouldn’t compose in front of me anymore?” Felix asked, eyes softening as he met Sylvain’s gaze. 

Sylvain chuckled nervously and nodded. “Yeah. I actually had some help from Bernadetta which is why I was awake so early some days, too. The idea behind it is the same. Each part of the song represents the different stages of our relationship. That’s pretty much the only element that stayed the same. The rest is a bit different, but it is what it is. Some things still don’t feel perfect, but I was running out of time because I  _ really _ wanted to finish this in time for your birthday--”

Sylvain was immediately cut off when Felix reached forward and covered his mouth with his hand, chuckling softly. “You’re rambling, Syl. I already know I’m gonna love it.”

It appeared another deep breath or two were in order. As Felix removed his hand, Sylvain nodded and closed his eyes to steady himself. 

“Okay. Here goes,” Sylvain whispered. 

Eyes trained on the sheet music, Sylvain gently pulled his bow across the strings and allowed that first open note to pierce the air. Each subsequent note carried with it a gentle lull, a new and unexplored feeling. This was the part where he tried to convey how he felt the first time he ever heard Felix play that melody he had never heard before. The way it physically kept him rooted to the ground but emotionally strung him along for a ride he never realized he needed. The tempo was slow and deliberate, each note delicate but pronounced. 

As he continued, the feel of the song shifted to something more urgent. The notes came a little faster, purposely a little clumsier as it represented his need to know Felix more. He rushed that section a little more than he intended, but he supposed it added to the effect. 

The more he played, the more relaxed he felt. The nerves finally died down, and he could dedicate every ounce of his attention to the song at hand. Still, he wasn’t brave enough to look up and see Felix’s reaction. 

The next section of the song was moreso dedicated to how he saw Felix as he got to know him better. The rhythm was strong and proud - a little lonely in its journey, but still unrelenting. The melody carved its own path, unhindered by other distractions or stray notes. That strength and independence that Sylvain saw in Felix is one of the things that drew him in so quickly. 

All the emotion behind that melody bled into the next section of the song: Sylvain realizing his feelings for Felix and what they truly meant. It started off almost timid sounding, the vibrato he performed on a long, drawn out note so soft and subtle. The resounding crescendo that followed led into a series of strong and purposeful notes. By this point in the song, he realized what he felt toward Felix and wished to pursue something more. 

Then began their story together. 

It was a rollercoaster of a melody - a bold step suggested to him by Bernadetta. But it represented them perfectly. Sylvain switched from a minor key to a major key, pouring all of his feelings into his playing. Excess rosin littered the base of his fingerboard, puffs of it lifting off the strings and dispersing into the afternoon air as he alternated between different tempos and volumes. If he could perfectly encompass the sound of Felix’s laugh into a single note, he would have done so in a heartbeat. Instead, all he could do was portray what he felt as he listened to that laugh. The mood shifted to something more timid and unsure as he portrayed how he felt the first time he and Felix ever had a legitimate argument over something. But it was soon followed by a much more upbeat set of notes, each chord tied together in perfect harmony, signifying how nothing, not even a stupid argument between two unnaturally stubborn people, would break the bond they formed so steadily. 

Which brought the song to where they were in that current moment. 

Last time, Sylvain had ended it on more of a vague note, knowing full well the song could have taken off in many different directions. This time, however, he was sure of how he wanted the ending to be. 

The excitement from the previous section faded into a softer series of notes - still deliberate and sure, but with a tinge of hopefulness for what the future had to hold for them. Sylvain kept the same style of ending he had last time, playing two strings at once to represent him and Felix. The resounding chord held two notes a sixth apart. A lovely harmony that always sounded appealing. The last few notes were drawn out especially long, the vibrato in them completely sure and unwavering. Sylvain wanted Felix by his side for as long as Felix would have him. 

Sylvain drew his bow across the strings one last time, slightly breathless as those final notes seeped into the afternoon sky. 

“Holy shit,” Sylvain whispered, fingers trembling again for a completely different reason. Never had he experienced such a rush of euphoria after completing a song before. Shocked by his own reaction, he glanced up to see Felix completely wide-eyed and silent, mouth slightly agape. 

“Felix?” Sylvain asked as he set his cello down beside him. 

Immediately, Felix hopped across the small area and pulled Sylvain up into a bruising kiss. Sylvain stumbled backwards slightly but eventually got a hold of his footing and wrapped his arms tight around Felix. 

Felix’s fingers wound their way into Sylvain’s hair as he poured an obscene amount of emotion into the kiss. Sylvain gasped when Felix pulled back and began placing open-mouthed kisses along the side of his neck. Still vaguely aware that they were in a  _ very _ public area, Sylvain gently took hold of Felix’s face with both hands and placed a kiss to his lips. “I think....we should get out of here.”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Felix was down on the ground packing away Sylvain’s cello. “Well?” Felix asked, glancing up at Sylvain expectantly. 

Forcing down a laugh, Sylvain placed his sheet music back in his folder and adjusted the stand to the lowest position. There was something inherently adorable about watching Felix carefully put away his cello and bow despite the anticipation of what was to come once they reached home. 

Together, they took the cello and music stand back to the car - perhaps a little too quickly. Sylvain accidentally bumped the edge of his fancy cello case against the stand and scuffed it. Felix raised a brow, knowing how expensive of a gift it was, but Sylvain simply rolled his eyes. It was hardly the end of the world. 

“Your place or mine?” Sylvain asked as they stepped into the car.

“Doesn’t matter,” Felix replied as he buckled himself in. He was tapping his fingers impatiently against his thighs.

Sylvain glanced over with concern as he pulled away from the curb. “Everything okay, Fe?”

Felix nodded quickly. “All good. Just...can’t wait to get back.”

Sylvain grinned when Felix refused to meet his eye, instead choosing to stare out the window at the passing buildings. Felix had a habit of being unable to meet his eye when he was feeling affectionate. The exposed tip of his ear had reddened considerably as well. God damn, would Sylvain love to make him blush everywhere. 

Though the drive was short, it felt incredibly drawn out to Sylvain. He knew Felix wanted to tell him something as well, and he so desperately wanted to hear it. 

At long last when they arrived at Sylvain’s, they all but stumbled out of the car and up to Sylvain’s apartment, cello and music stand left abandoned in the car trunk. Worst that would happen is the strings would go out of tune with the temperature fluxuations. That was an easy fix for later. 

Once in the safety of Sylvain’s apartment, Felix had  _ him _ pushed up against the door this time, lips immediately on Sylvain’s as they both shrugged out of their coats and tossed them off to the side. Felix resumed where he left off at the park, lips and tongue trailing a very heated path down the smooth expanse of Sylvain’s neck. Sylvain’s breath came quicker as he tilted his head back, offering more of himself to Felix. As Felix sucked a mark right above his collarbone, Sylvain let out a breathy laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” Felix asked, glancing up as he licked a stripe from the newly forming mark on Sylvain’s neck to right below his jaw. 

Sylvain groaned. “It’s your birthday. I’m supposed to be the one showing  _ you _ a good time.”

Felix snorted, hands creeping up Sylvain’s shirt, fingertips brushing just light enough against his abdomen to send a shiver down Sylvain’s spine. “What, you don’t think I enjoy seeing you like this? That it wouldn’t make my whole fuckin’ day to see you come undone?”

“Well shit, Fe,” Sylvain breathed, gasping shallowly when he felt Felix’s thumbs graze over his nipples. “When you put it like that….”

“Exactly,” Felix replied, his tone smug as he lifted Sylvain’s shirt. Slowly, he leaned in and circled his pretty pink tongue around one of Sylvain’s nipples. The sensation shot straight to Sylvain’s cock, which had most definitely taken interest in Felix’s actions. Sylvain cursed under his breath, fingers making a mess of Felix’s ponytail as he tugged harder with each swipe of Felix’s tongue. 

“God, you’re so sensitive,” Felix groaned, blowing softly and watching the cute pink bud harden before he gave the same treatment to the other. 

“Yeah, well,” Sylvain began, hips circling, seeking  _ some _ sort of friction while Felix went to work with his skillful tongue. “I never knew I was so damn sensitive until I met you.”

“I take pride in that,” Felix said with a smirk, shifting to his knees while he pressed his lips down Sylvain’s abdomen. Each touch of Felix’s lips against his skin sent fire coursing through his veins, desire clouding every part of his mind. There was only one thing he could focus on: having Felix’s mouth on his throbbing cock. 

“Maybe a little too much pride,” Sylvain countered, lower lip caught between his teeth as Felix used a finger to lightly trace right above the waistband of Sylvain’s jeans. The outline of his hardened cock was pressing insistently against the restricting fabric, and Felix was eyeing it with the hunger of a man who hadn’t eaten properly in years. 

Felix glanced up through his lashes, one hand splayed across Sylvain’s abdomen, nails slowly dragging down the sensitive skin as his other hand gently pressed against Sylvain’s length through his jeans. The touch was barely-there, the tiniest bit of relief that only brought with it a mountain of desire. Sylvain threaded his fingers through Felix’s hair, watching with rapture as the striking auburn of Felix’s irises gave way to that lustful darkness that made his cock twitch. 

Sylvain could feel his cheeks heating as Felix smirked up at him and finally undid the button and zipper to his jeans, slowly pulling them down. A small bit of precome stained his boxer briefs near the tip of his cock, betraying just how riled up he was. With both hands now braced on Sylvain’s muscular thighs, Felix leaned forward and mouthed at the tip of Sylvain’s cock through his boxer briefs. Sylvain whimpered, fingers tightening in Felix’s hair which earned him a pleased groan. 

After what seemed like an ungodly amount of time, Felix finally yanked down Sylvain’s boxers, allowing his cock to spring free in all its aching, leaking glory. Sylvain couldn’t restrain a moan when he felt Felix’s fingers wrap around his cock, slowly and deliberately pumping.

“Fuck, Felix,” Sylvain groaned, eyes squeezing shut when Felix quickened the pace, allowing his thumb to swipe over the tip and drag down the excess precome. 

“Open your eyes, Syl,” Felix stated, voice low and gravelly. 

Sylvain listened, and the sight he saw below him was nearly enough to make him come right then and there. Felix had one hand between his legs, palming at his own erection as he leaned forward and swirled his tongue around the head of Sylvain’s cock, sucking softly as he continued pumping. 

_ “Shit,” _ Sylvain cursed, cock twitching again as Felix began to take more of him into his mouth. It wasn’t the first time they had done something like this by far, but it certainly felt like a dream each time it happened. Felix only stopped when Sylvain’s cock nearly brushed the back of his throat. Either he didn’t have a gag reflex, or he was exceptionally good at keeping it under control. Sylvain would find out for himself one of these days. 

Felix bobbed his head a couple times, allowing Sylvain to really  _ feel _ the wet heat of his mouth before he slowly pulled off. Sylvain let out a shaky breath as Felix began placing soft kisses all along both thighs. 

“You know what I want for my birthday?” Felix asked, squeezing Sylvain’s thighs for good measure. 

“What do you want, beautiful?” Sylvain questioned, a hand leaving Felix’s hair to trail down his jaw, thumb brushing against his bottom lip. There was no sense in him even asking that question. He would do anything Felix asked. 

“I want to fuck you,” Felix whispered against his skin, hand curving around to Sylvain’s ass, giving a harsh squeeze. “God, I just want to fuck you so bad.” 

Sylvain shuddered, whatever blood left in his brain rushing south with a whole new kind of urgency. “Fuck me, Felix.”

With that, Felix groaned and stood, immediately shedding every bothersome piece of clothing on him. He dragged Sylvain to the room by his hand, using his free hand to pull the rubber band loose from his hair and drop it on Sylvain’s nightstand. 

Sylvain’s heart skipped a beat as Felix ran his fingers through his hair, momentarily combing through the tangles Sylvain put there and will most definitely continue to put there. The man was just so undeniably beautiful. It wasn’t fair. There he stood, unabashedly naked, cock just as hard and leaking as his was. And that was all for him.

Without missing a beat, Felix reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out a bottle of lubricant, setting it on the nightstand. He pulled Sylvain down onto the bed with him, their lips instantly coming together in a messy kiss. Sylvain groaned when Felix pushed him onto his back against the pillows, their cocks brushing together as Felix settled between his legs. 

“Fuck,” Felix cursed, slowly grinding his hips down. 

Sylvain wrapped both arms around Felix’s neck and pulled him down, brushing their lips together in a way that was almost too tender for what was happening. Felix trailed a hand down Sylvain’s side, down his thigh until it was hooked behind his knee. He hiked up Sylvain’s leg, and Sylvain took the hint, wrapping it around Felix’s waist as their kiss deepened. They groaned in unison as their tongues met, needing to taste as much of each other as possible. 

Sylvain sighed when Felix briefly broke the kiss to grab the lube off the nightstand. He watched with lustful eyes as Felix coated his fingers generously and took advantage of Sylvain’s thighs already spread apart for him. Almost teasingly, Felix traced a finger around that tight ring of muscle. 

“Shit,” Sylvain breathed. “Felix, don’t tease.”

“I don’t think I’m teasing,” Felix replied, smiling softly as he slowly pushed his finger past that muscle, allowing Sylvain adequate time to adjust. “In fact, there’s something I wanted to tell you.”

Sylvain moaned, squeezing around Felix’s finger. “What is it?”

Felix worked slowly and carefully, only adding a second finger when he was absolutely sure Sylvain was ready. Sylvain pushed back against Felix’s fingers, wanting to feel  _ more. _ Those angelic fingers that played the violin with such precision and raw emotion were truly heaven-sent. Felix knew all the right spots to rub and brush up against that had Sylvain throwing his head back against the pillows, distantly thankful that he had just washed his pillows recently. 

“Sylvain,” Felix called, causing Sylvain to open his eyes again and meet his gaze. He lazily stroked his cock as Felix worked in a third finger. “I love you so fucking much.”

Sylvain opened his mouth to return the sentiment but Felix shook his head, his deep navy hair shaking side to side with the movement. 

“Let me finish. That song you composed...I don’t think I could explain to you how much I love and appreciate you for that if I had all the time in the world.” A soft blush slowly covered Felix’s cheeks, and if it weren’t for the way Felix’s fingers were curling far too close to his prostate, he might have chuckled and called him cute. “It was like I could feel everything you were pouring into that song. I’m sure it wasn’t easy to lay yourself bare like that, even through a song, but I appreciate it a lot. I know...I’m not great with words most of the time, but I wanted you to hear that. I love you, Sylvain Gautier. Whatever that entails.”

Sylvain’s breath hitched as Felix pumped his fingers faster, the effects of Felix’s words still sinking in. He was being all consumed by Felix, and he absolutely would not have it any other way. “F-Felix,” he managed through tiny moans. “I love you, too. So much. More than I could possibly say.”

“Shit,” Felix muttered, pulling his fingers free to coat his cock with the lubricant instead. “Syl, are you ready? I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”

“Fuck  _ yes _ I’m ready,” Sylvain moaned, spreading his legs further apart.

Felix held his gaze as he lined himself up, the head of his cock brushing against Sylvain’s entrance. Slowly, inch by inch, Felix began to push further, allowing Sylvain’s tight heat to envelop as much as he could. They sighed together once Felix was seated as far as he could go, each taking a shaky breath as Sylvain adjusted to him. 

Sylvain wrapped both legs around Felix’s waist, one hand finding Felix’s free hand to lace their fingers together. Once fully adjusted, Felix pulled back until just the tip of his cock was buried inside Sylvain. He kept his thrusts shallow, deliberately watching Sylvain’s face as he teased him with the head of his cock.

“Come on, Fe,” Sylvain breathed, pushing back against Felix in an attempt to feel _ more. _ “I want you. Please.”

“How could I say no to that?” Felix questioned with a breathless smile. He thrust forward into Sylvain, sending them both into a flurry of curses and moans. Sylvain squeezed his hand, legs wrapping tighter around Felix while Felix continued his relentless pace. Once again their lips met in a kiss full of need and teeth and tongue, touching any and every part of each other that they could. 

It shouldn’t have been allowed, how well Felix filled him up. With each thrust, Sylvain felt completely and utterly whole, and he watched in amazement at the way Felix’s face scrunched up with pleasure, the muscles of his chest and arms flexing with each thrust. Sweat beaded on his forehead, causing a few unruly strands of hair to stick. Sylvain thought Felix was beautiful in any given light on any given day but this? This was one of the times Felix’s was the most breathtaking. 

Any train of thought Sylvain had was immediately brought to a screeching halt as Felix’s cock brushed against his prostate. 

The moan he released was far too loud for someone living in an apartment with neighbors on both sides, but he couldn’t help himself. Especially not when Felix realized exactly what that moan meant and was then ramming against that same exact spot over and over. 

Sylvain took his neglected cock into his hand and began pumping furiously, timed perfectly with the speed of Felix’s thrusts. “Fuck, oh f-fuck,” he moaned, his free hand releasing Felix’s hand in favor of squeezing his bicep. “God, Fe, I’m so close,  _ fuck.” _

Felix’s thrust became sporadic and far less controlled than just a few minutes prior - he was dangerously close as well. His hair acted as a curtain, draped around his shoulders as his muscles tensed up with every subsequent thrust. 

Before Sylvain could even warn Felix, his orgasm washed over him in the most intense series of waves he had ever experienced. Come splattered all over both their chests and even landed on Felix’s neck. It took a few moments for Sylvain to come to enough to realize Felix had come deep inside him at the same time. Arms tiring out, Felix gently collapsed on top of Sylvain, humming a sound of approval when Sylvain ran his fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. 

When they had both recovered enough to actually move again, Felix slowly pulled out of Sylvain. After one look at each other, they both burst into uncontrollable laughter. Several whole minutes passed before they settled down enough to look each other in the eye again. There was no real reason behind the laughter - nothing was particularly funny. They were both just so genuinely happy they couldn’t help it. At some point Felix laid his head on Sylvain’s chest, and Sylvain could feel the smile still lingering on his lips as he pulled Felix closer. 

“I really do love you,” Sylvain whispered, yawning right before he placed a kiss to the top of Felix’s head. 

“I sure hope so after that,” Felix retorted. He soon after pressed a kiss to Sylvain’s bare chest. “I really do love you, too.”

The day was hardly over, but the alluring call of sleep was far too tempting to ignore. Sylvain debated getting them in the shower but had his thoughts interrupted by a soft snore coming from below him. Chuckling softly, Sylvain reached for the blanket and pulled it over them. A little nap wouldn’t hurt anyone.

* * *

By the time Sylvain awoke, the sun had dipped below the horizon and Felix was still sound asleep in his arms. He traced light patterns along Felix’s spine, perfectly content to wait for Felix to wake up on his own time. 

There were some moments during his relationship with Felix where he felt like he didn’t deserve that love. It felt as though he wasn’t worthy of having someone who understood him and who listened to him and kept him in line. It may have been a result of too many nights alone with himself; all those nights spent in a whirlwind of self-hatred and self-loathing. He was only ever supposed to be good for one thing: playing cello well enough to carry him somewhere in life. Where? He didn’t know - or care really. 

All that changed the second Felix stumbled into his life. The connection he formed with Felix was alarmingly quick and  _ strong. _ Though he sometimes still struggled with those thoughts, it was moments like these that made him quick to turn on his doubts. After a life of essentially living in the shadow of his family, he deserved something for himself. He deserved to love and be loved. 

His relationship with his father and his brother was never perfect, and the chances were it never  _ would _ be perfect. But that was okay. Sylvain now had someone on his side, and god damn did that feel nice. There was at least one person in this world that would choose  _ him _ every time. There was no worry that Felix wanted to use him to get to Miklan or their father. Frankly, Felix couldn’t give less of a fuck about either of them, and he had made that abundantly clear with a few other choice words. 

Music had brought him a great deal of pain and suffering that he had long suppressed; but it had also brought him to Felix, and that in itself made just about everything else worth it. With Felix, he could learn to love music again. In fact, he  _ was _ learning to love music again. Slowly but surely that would become a love he could proudly profess as a truth for the first time since his childhood. 

As the moon rose higher in the sky and the room darkened considerably, Sylvain held Felix as tight as he could without waking him. 

Sylvain had expressed it through music, but he would also be more than happy to say it aloud too: he wanted to stay by Felix’s side for as long as Felix would have him.

Together, they would work toward building a future they truly wished to see for themselves. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for finishing my fic!! this really has been so much fun to write. especially the music but like ugh it just makes me miss playing viola more every day ;w; 
> 
> lemme know what you think! also i'll be doin fe3h/acnh related yelling on twitter as [@sylvainjpg](https://twitter.com/sylvainjpg) so feel free to catch me there hehe


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